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PRESENTED   BY 


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No    1,614.]  [Price  6d. 

London,   September   11,    1853. 


Imperial  Courtship. — A  letter 
from  Vienna  of  the  31st  ult. 
says  :  "  We  learn  from  a  source 
worthy  of  credit  that  the  rapid 
choice  which  the  Emperor  made 
of  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of 
Bavaria  took  place  in  the  fol- 
lowing way :  At  Ischl  the 
family  of  Prince  Maximilian  of 
Bavaria  happened  to  be  present 
at  the  court  ball.  The  Em- 
peror appeared  charmed  with 
the  Princess  and  requested  to 
be  allowed  a  few  minutes  con- 
versation with  her.  At  the  end 
of  a  few  instants  the  Emperor 
returned  with  the  Princess 
leaning  on  his  arm  and  pre- 
sented her  to  the  company  as 
the  future  Empress  of  Austria." 

[EmiJress  Elizabeth  was  assass- 
inated at  Cipneva  in  1898;  the 
Emperor  Francis  Joseph  died  in 
1916.1 


— 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 

FROM  THE  LIBRARY 
OF  F.  VON  BOSCHAN 


LA      KEYSTONE 
OF       EMPIRE 

FRANCIS  JOSEPH  OF  AUSTRIA 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

"THE    MARTYRDOM    OF 
AN    EMPRESS" 

ILLUSTRATED 


HARPER  £r   BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 
LONDON      AND      NEW     YORK 

1903 


Copyright,  1903,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 

All  rights  reserved. 
Published  November,  1903 


Printed  in   United  States  of  A  merica. 


TO  HIS  MAJESTY 

FRANCIS-JOSEPH,  EMPEROR-KING  OF  AUSTRO-HUNGARY 

IN   MEMORY   OF   FORMER  DAYS 

Remembering  all  the  beauty  of  that  star 
Which  shone  so  close  beside  Thee  that  ye  made 
One  light  together,  but  has  past,  and  leaves 
The  Crown  a  lonely  splendor. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


FRANCIS-JOSEPH 

ERGHCRZOG  CARL  LUDWIG    

EMPEROR  FRANCIS  I.  (GRANDFATHER  OF  FRANCIS- 
JOSEPH)  AND  EMPRESS  CAROLINE  IN  THE  IM- 
PERIAL BOX  AT  THE  THEATRE    .... 

A  "ball-bei-hof"  AT  THE  BURG 

THE  EMPEROR'S  BAPTISM  OF  FIRE  AT  SANTA  LUCIA 

FRANCIS-JOSEPH    IN    1848 

A    SPEECH    FROM    THE    THRONE       

EMPEROR  FRANCIS-JOSEPH  IN  HIS  ROBES  OF  STATE 

THE  "WASHING  OF  THE  FEET,"  ON  THURSDAY  OF 
HOLY  WEEK,  IN  THE  GREAT  HALL  OF  CERE- 
MONIES   AT    THE    HOFBURG     

THE    CORPUS    CHRISTI    PROCESSION 

THE    EMPEROR'S    PRIVATE    HALL    OF   AUDIENCE  ] 

IN    THE    HOFBURG \ 

i 
SCHLOSS    LAXENBURG J 

"ERZSI,"  ARCHDUCHESS  ELIZABETH NOW  PRIN- 
CESS OTTO  VON  WINDISCHGRATZ GRAND- 
DAUGHTER   OF    THE    EMPEROR     

ARCHDUKE    RAINER 

A    LITTLE    PETITIONER 

THE  EMPEROR'S  PRIVATE  SALON  IN  THE  HOFBURG 

A  FUTURE  EMPEROR.  ARCHDUKE  KARL-FRANZ, 
SON  OF  THE   HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE,   ARCHDUKE 

OTTO 

V 


Frontispiece 
Facing  p.    1 6 


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38 
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122 

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266 
282 
298 


3IO 


A  mighty  Keystone  shouldering  up  the  span 
Of  a  gray  arch  of  Empire,  while  below 
Threatens  a  torrent  black  and  fierce  of  flow 
That  ill-wrought  masonry  uncouth  of  plan. 
All  strange,  dissimilar  stones  the  quarry  can 
Yield,  East  or  Southward,  in  a  helpless  row 
Let  ponderously  their  great  bulks  inward  go 
And  lean  upon  it,  bearing  like  a  man. 

Pray  Heaven  it  hold!  and  when  Time  crumble  it 
May  naught  unworthy  take  that  high  command 
But  granite  strengthened  by  the  shock  of  seas. 
And  thus  true-centred,  well  and  firmly  knit 
Austria,  by  ages  honored,  still  withstand 
The  crush  and  turmoil  of  the  centuries. 


A   KEYSTONE   OF   EMPIRE 


CHAPTER  I 

The  great  park  was  smiling  with  the  new,  clean- 
washed  radiance  of  spring,  under  a  velvety  blue  sky, 
seen  through  the  tender  foliage  of  veteran  trees,  stretch- 
ing their  mighty  arms  greedily  towards  the  golden  sun- 
rays. 

On  the  mossy  edge  of  a  fountain  stood  a  baby — rosy, 
chubby,  golden-haired,  and  blue-eyed — peering  intently 
into  the  transparent  water,  wherein  the  squat  body  of 
a  big,  green  frog  reposed  comfortably  upon  a  miniature 
bowlder,  his  round,  topaz  eyes  gleaming  just  above  the 
surface. 

Plainly  the  frog  was  sunk  in  a  deep  reverie,  revolving 
in  his  round,  flat  head  queer,  mysterious  water  secrets, 
and  regretful  memories  of  long,  lazy  summer  days  spent 
amid  the  tangle  of  oozy  weeds  carpeting  his  native 
brook.  Now, alas!  he  was  old  and  cynical  and  heavy, 
contemptuously  silent,  and  quite  undisturbed  by  the 
gay  little  figure  so  perilously  balanced  on  the  slippery 
bastions  of  his  splendid  prison. 

The  baby,  fascinated  by  the  yellow,  glittering  eyes  of 
the  monster,  extended  a  dimpled,  pink -palmed  hand, 
and,  bending  forward,  tried  to  touch  ever  so  gently  the 
top  of  the  shining,  partly  immersed  head.  Almost  was 
the  deed  accomplished,   almost  had  the  little  ringers 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

caressed  the  imperturbable  water-god,  a  soft,  purling, 
victorious  laugh  thrilled  the  morning  quiet ;  then  came 
a  splash,  a  cry  of  terror,  and  the  future  high  and  puissant 
Emperor  of  Austro-Hungary  lay  on  his  little  round  nose, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  fountain! 

The  water  -  plants  rocked  with  a  violence  hitherto 
quite  unknown  to  those  decorous,  admirably  tended 
growths,  while  scores  of  birds,  with  a  loud  whir  of 
startled  wings,  rose  from  their  twittering  councils  in 
the  scented  thickets  hard  by;  finches,  nightingales, 
robins,,  and  even  gray -clad,  ubiquitous  little  sparrows 
raising  alike  shrill  cries  of  amazement  and  alarm,  and 
for  a  short  moment  the  out-door  world  stood  still  as 
though  time  had  ceased  to  be  while  the  fate  of  a  great 
empire,  and  that  of  a  tiny,  dimpled  toddler,  hung  in  the 
balance.  Then  the  sound  of  hurried  feet  came  down 
a  shaded  avenue,  where  the  sun,  glancing  through  dainty 
clouds  of  tender  green,  dappled  the  gravel  -  path  with 
rosy  spots,  and  a  young  gardener's  assistant,  attracted 
by  the  cries  of  the  birds  and  moved  by  an  inexplicable 
but  overwhelming  impulse,  ran  straight  to  where  the 
white  form  of  the  little  Archduke  still  feebly  struggled 
among  the  lily-pads. 

With  a  wildly  beating  heart,  and  a  choking  sensation 
in  his  throat,  he  snatched  the  half-drowned  mite  from 
the  water,  and  ran  at  full  speed  towards  the  castle,  where 
the  careless  attendants  who  had  allowed  the  child  to 
stray  away  had  already  given  the  alarm,  for  a  knot  of 
people  were  running  excitedly  down  the  marble  steps 
of  the  upper  terraces,  and  crying  out  confusedly  to  one 
another,  as  if  almost  distraught. 

One  tall,  graceful  figure,  however,  guided  by  an 
unerring  mother-instinct,  flew  down  the  path  taken  by 
the  young  gardener  and  his  precious  burden,  and  Arch- 
duchess Sophia,  with  her  beautiful  hair  streaming  loose 


A   KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

upon  her  shoulders,  her  face  white  and  haggard,  her 
trembling  lips  unable  to  form  a  word,  stretched  implor- 
ing arms  towards  the  lad,  her  usual  icy,  proud  composure 
completely  shattered  by  overpowering  anguish. 

"He  is  not  hurt,  Kaiserliche  Hoheit,  not  a  bit  the 
worse,"  he  shouted  joyfully,  thrusting  the  boy  into  his 
mother's  arms;  and  then,  smitten  with  a  sudden,  paralyz- 
ing shyness,  which  made  the  blood  tingle  like  fire  through 
his  veins,  he  turned  on  his  heel  and,  without  waiting 
for  thanks  or  reward,  ran  off  as  fast  as  he  could  put  foot 
to  the  ground. 

On  the  18th  of  August,  1830,  a  salute  of  one  hundred 
and  one  guns  had  proclaimed  to  the  good  citizens  of 
Vienna  that  yet  another  Prince  had  been  born  to  the 
Imperial  House  of  Habsburg.  Later  on  the  Wiener 
Zeitung  published  a  bulletin  of  which  the  following  is  a 
literal  translation: 

"Her  Imperial  Highness  Archduchess  Sophia,  wife  of  his 
Imperial  Highness  Archduke  Franz-Karl,  and  daughter-in-law 
of  his  Imperial  Majesty  Francis  I.,  has  been  happily  delivered 
of  a  son  at  the  Imperial  Palace  of  Schonbrunn.  Her  Imperial 
Highness  and  the  Imperial  Babe  are  both  in  a  satisfactory 
condition.  The  christening  will  take  place  to-morrow  at  the 
Palace  of  Schonbrunn,  and  will  be  followed  by  a  Cercle." 

The  birth  of  this  particular  little  Archduke  was  greeted 
with  joy  not  only  by  the  Emperor's  loyal  subjects,  but 
by  the  entire  House  of  Habsburg,  for  obvious  reasons. 
To  begin  with,  the  then  reigning  Emperor,  Francis  I.,  had 
never  been  robust,  for  ever  since  the  injuries  received 
by  him  at  the  battle  of  Lugos,  during  the  war  with  the 
Turks,  to  which  he  had  in  1788  accompanied  his  uncle 
and  predecessor  Emperor  Joseph,  his  chest  had  remained 

3 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

delicate,  and  it  was  always  greatly  feared  lest  any 
shock  or  overstrain  of  the  nerves  or  the  brain  should 
precipitate  him  into  the  grave,  leaving  the  throne  vacant 
for  his  weak-minded  and  unpopular  son  Ferdinand, 
who  had  no  issue,  and  was  looked  upon  as  a  most  un- 
desirably successor  to  his  kind-hearted  and  conscientious 
father.  Nor  were  the  people  of  Austro-Hungary,  or,  for 
the  matter  of  that,  the  Imperial  Family,  very  eager  to 
see  Ferdinand's  younger  brother,  Archduke  Franz-Karl, 
assume 'the  reins  of  government  should  it  become  nec- 
essary to  pass  over  the  former,  for,  although  the  most 
upright  and  just  of  men,  his  tastes  were  far  more  quiet 
and  domestic  than  political,  and  he  was  of  so  very  kindly 
a  disposition  that  his  heart  always  overruled  his  head; 
not  the  best  of  recommendations  for  a  monarch  beneath 
whose  sceptre  a  score  of  different  races  and  peoples 
exist,  creating  and  fomenting  unceasing  conflicts,  which 
can  alone  be  subdued  by  an  iron  hand  in  a  velvet  glove. 
It  will,  therefore,  be  readily  understood  that  the  neces- 
sity for  a  fit  and  proper  heir  to  the  heavy  Dual  Crown 
was  bitterly  felt,  and  hence  the  rejoicing  occasioned  by 
the  birth  of  Francis-Joseph,  who,  none  doubted,  would  be 
brought  up  in  every  particular  as  an  Emperor  should 
be  by  his  mother,  the  shrewd,  clever,  and  determined 
Archduchess  Sophia;  a  maitresse  femme  if  ever  there 
was  one. 

Myriads  of  roses  were  glowing  upon  the  velvety  lawns  of 
Schonbrunn  and  the  warm  beams  of  summer  sun  danced 
on  the  tall  jets  of  the  fountains  in  the  Pleasaunce,  when 
the  handsome,  vigorous,  Arch  ducal  baby  was  for  the 
first  time  carried  into  open  air.  Beside  the  stately, 
Junoesque  wet-nurse  in  her  gorgeous  Tyrolese  costume, 
proudly  bearing  in  her  arms  the  white  chrysalis  from 
which  an  emperor  would  presently  emerge,  walked  no 
less  a  personage  than  Francis  I.  himself,  his  pale,  drawn 

4 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

face  transfigured  by  a  profound  and  all  -  engrossing 
tenderness — the  sincerest,  deepest,  purest  feeling  of  his 
whole  existence  —  as  he  gazed  through  its  soft,  snowy 
lace  veils  at  the  small,  pink  visage  of  his  grandson. 

Day  by  day  he  accompanied  the  baby  to  the  gardens, 
and  thus  in  that  lovely  place  and  season  began  what 
was  to  become  a  very  touching  companionship  between 
the  weary,  disappointed,  deeply  embittered  sovereign 
and  the  tiny  mite  destined  to  inherit  the  crown  which 
he  himself  had  found  so  truly  one  of  thorns. 

The  two  were  seldom  far  apart,  and  as  soon  as  the 
child  could  walk  he  found  no  readier  playfellow,  no 
more  patient  attendant  than  his  beloved  Grot — a  charm- 
ing corruption  of  the  as  yet  unpronounceable  Gross- 
vater  —  over  whom  he  could  tyrannize  to  his  heart's 
content.  Indeed,  a  disposition  less  sweet  might  have 
been  totally  ruined  by  such  an  adoring  affection  as  that 
lavished  upon  him  by  the  doting  old  man;  but  little 
'  Franzi  "was  an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  and  passed 
unscathed  through  the  trying  ordeal,  despite  his  mother's 
gloomy  prognostications.  It  was  a  touching  sight  to 
watch  the  spare,  stooping  figure  of  the  monarch  bend 
yet  lower  to  put  himself  on  the  level  of  the  child,  or  to 
see  his  stern  blue  eyes  softening  and  smiling,  and  his 
usually  knitted  brows  smooth  themselves  under  his 
silver  locks  when  the  little  one  appeared  on  the  scene. 

The  old  Emperor  was  passionately  fond  of  birds  and 
flowers,  and  he  initiated  his  little  grandson  at  the  ear- 
liest possible  age  into  the  mysteries  of  natural  history 
and  botany — not,  however,  the  cruel,  insensate  sciences 
which  prompt  the  student  to  tear  apart  the  satiny 
petals  of  delicate  blooms  in  order  to  dissect  their  tender 
hearts,  or  to  pull  to  pieces  the  velvet  wings  of  butter- 
flies, and  the  emerald  corselets  of  rose-beetles  while  they 
still  live  and  flutter,  or  after  they  have  been  done  to 

S 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

death  with  ammonia,  ether,  or — worse  yet — with  tort- 
uring pins  that  have  fastened  their  poor  little  quivering 
bodies  to  corks  for  long  days  of  agony.  No!  No! 
Francis  I.,  whom  historians,  especially  German  ones, 
have  not  hesitated  to  accuse  of  utter  heartlessness, 
harshness,  craftiness,  and  a  decided  leaning  towards 
refined  cruelty,  would  not  have  hurt  an  insect  or  even  a 
flower  for  any  consideration. 

His  favorite  playgrounds  for  his  little  grandson  were  in 
winter  the  magnificent  winter-gardens,  communicating 
with  the  private  apartments  at  the  Hofburg,  and  in  sum- 
mer the  gorgeous  parks  and  greenhouses  of  Schonbrunn 
and  Laxenburg,  where  the  quaintly  assorted  pair  devoted 
many  hours  to  floriculture.  Often  they  would  walk  all 
alone  and  hand  in  hand  under  the  grand  elms  and  walnut- 
trees  of  the  Imperial  Park,  watching  wonderful  nature — 
the  pale  primroses  peeping  through  dark  mosses,  the  tur- 
quoise wings  of  the  blue- jays  fluttering  in  the  branches, 
the  shy,  brown  squirrels  swinging  among  the  hazel-bush- 
es, and  the  gold-fish,  glowing  like  flames  or  animated 
jewels,  everlastingly  touring  in  the  gigantic  fountain- 
basin,  where  "  Franzi  "  had  nearly  found  his  death.  In- 
deed, this  last  was  one  of  their  greatest  delights,  and  when 
the  greedy  swarm  opened  and  shut  their  bland,  cavernous 
mouths  in  catching  crumbs,  and  swallowed  them  with  a 
coldly  contented  flicker  of  their  gold-rimmed  eyes,  the 
little  boy's  laughter  would  ring  out  in  ecstasy  and  be 
echoed  by  the  low,  repressed  merriment  of  his  much- 
pleased  Grot. 

Poor  Archduchess  Sophia!  even  her  omnipotence 
stopped  short  of  the  power  required  to  separate  these 
two,  although  she  employed  her  finest  strategy  and  her 
cleverest  plannings  and  plottings  to  that  end,  for  she 
was  greatly  alarmed  lest  her  beloved  boy  should  escape 
from  under  her  Spartan  rule,  and  be  over-indulged  and 

6 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

encouraged  to  disobey  her  by  that  meek  Autocrat,  his 
Most  Catholic  Majesty,  Francis  I.  But  the  bond  be- 
tween "  Franzi  "  and  his  Grot  proved  unbreakable,  and 
remained  so  until  death  closed  the  sad,  tired  eyes  of  the 
fond  old  grandfather,  whom  his  subjects  called  the 
People's  Emperor,  because  he  was  truly  their  spiritual 
father,  in  spite  of  all  that  the  jaundiced  works  of  Hor- 
mayr  and  others  may  say  to  the  contrary. 

Archduchess  Sophia  was  at  that  time  a  beautiful 
woman,  possessed  of  supreme  distinction  and  of  that 
dignity  of  bearing  which  is  the  appanage  of  ancient 
lineage  and  of  long  traditions  of  courtesy  and  culture. 
Her  every  gesture  was  harmonious  and  reposeful,  and 
her  cameo-like  features  bore  a  calm,  proud,  cold  ex- 
pression, denoting  perfect  self-reliance.  In  her  character 
an  inextinguishable  thirst  for  power,  a  disposition  to 
exercise  too  despotic  a  will  and  to  show  herself  con- 
temptuous of  any  dictates  but  her  own,  and  a  distinct 
leaning  towards  intolerance,  were  curiously  blended  with 
a  strong  sense  of  duty  and  responsibility  that  rendered 
her  unsparing  of  herself  and  untiring  in  her  numerous 
charities. 

"Sophia,"  her  father-in-law  once  said,  "has  it  in  her 
to  be  a  second  Maria-Theresa.  She  brooks  no  con- 
tradiction, no  opposition  of  any  kind.  She  is  overbear- 
ing and  autocratic;  but  even  her  faults  are  noble  ones, 
and  had  I  myself  had  a  few  such  the  country  would  have 
greatly  benefited  thereby!" 

Indeed,  the  Archduchess  would  have  been  an  ideal 
ruler  for  a  realm  so  difficult  to  keep  in  order  as  Austro- 
Hungary,  for  she  would  have  known  without  a  per- 
adventure  how  to  repress  and  discourage  all  tendencies 
to  revolt  and  rioting  long  ere  the  time  when  grave 
revolutionary  outbreaks  sapped  the  very  foundations 
of  the  Empire. 

7 


A    KEYSTONE    OF   EMPIRE 

Her  undeniable  nobility  of  temper,  her  inexorable 
pride  and  stern  clearness  of  judgment,  clothed  her  in  an 
unyielding  armor,  and  she  serenely  pursued  her  way  in 
life  unhampered  by  any  feminine  weakness  of  mind  or 
body,  walking  as  it  were  in  the  gratifying  conviction 
that  she  at  least  could  do  no  wrong.  That  this  convic- 
tion carried  her  too  far  at  times  is  sufficiently  known. 
It  has  often  been  said  that  she  was  unscrupulous.  This 
she  was  not  in  any  ordinary  sense,  and  as  for  the  political 
interpretation  of  the  word,  everybody  knows  that  its 
extreme  elasticity  permits  any  historical  scribbler  to 
stretch  it  enough  to  cover  offences  against  his  own 
personal  tastes  and  opinions.  Indeed,  there  is  no  mas- 
ter of  statecraft,  no  energetic  and  painstaking  prime- 
minister,  or  for  the  matter  of  that  no  successful  politician 
of  whatsoever  color  or  inclination,  who  has  not  been 
laid  under  this  accusation. 

A  hard,  cold,  determined  woman,  if  you  will,  was 
Archduchess  Sophia,  who  would  have  been  sufficiently 
remarkable  in  any  age  for  her  total  lack  of  gentleness  and 
softness,  and  was  much  more  so  in  a  time  of  vaporous, 
languorous  femininities;  a  woman  more  likely  to  be 
feared  and  admired  than  loved  even  in  her  own  im- 
mediate family;  a  woman  capable  of  causing  the  greatest 
pain  to  those  nearest  to  her,  by  her  firm  belief  in  the 
superiority  of  her  own  judgment,  and  her  steady  resolu- 
tion to  uphold  it  against  any  other;  but  a  woman  of  a 
large  and  fine  moral  mould,  in  no  way  paltry  or  mean. 
Moreover,  she  was  certainly  neither  the  remorseless  in- 
trigante nor  the  Machiavellian  schemer  she  has  been 
represented  to  be. 

Her  excessive  severity,  fortunately  for  little  "Franzi," 
was  counter  -  balanced  by  the  infinite  tenderness  and 
boundless  leniency  displayed  towards  him  by  the  lad's 
Imperial  grandfather,  and  was  still  further  mitigated 

8 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

by  the  absolute  adoration  of  the  child's  father,  Archduke 
Franz-Karl. 

The  accepted  opinion  about  this  Prince  will  have  it 
that  he  was  a  rather  colorless,  insignificant  gentleman, 
solicitous  only  about  his  own  comfort,  decidedly  self- 
ish, and  so  remarkably  eager  to  avoid  any  exertion, 
trouble,  or  fatigue  that  he  allowed  himself  to  pass  for 
a  total  nonentity.  This,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  is  a 
very  unfair  and  unjust  portrayal  of  the  generous,  gold- 
en-hearted man  who  throughout  a  long  life  abhorred 
the  very  idea  of  giving  pain  to  others.  Moreover,  his 
intense  and  bitterly  criticised  love  of  peace,  and  his 
much-derided  dread  of  any  sort  of  quarrel,  were  without 
a  doubt  engendered  by  the  terror  which  filled  his  earliest 
recollections  of  those  dreadful  days  in  1805  and  1807 
when  Napoleon  drove  the  Imperial  Family  of  Habsburg 
from  their  beloved  city  of  Vienna — at  the  point  of  the 
sword,  as  one  might  say.  From  these  troubled  times 
of  his  childhood  the  winning  sweetness  of  his  ways  also 
took  its  origin.  Indeed,  far  from  being  self-centred  or 
an  egotist,  he  was  most  wonderfully  unselfish,  living 
entirely  for  his  wife  and  children,  and  making  it  his 
continual  occupation  to  render  them  happier  than  any 
mortals  have  a  right  to  be  in  this  sad  world  of  ours. 

He  had  in  his  nature  not  a  trace  of  the  cold,  forbidding 
haughtiness  which  is  popularly  supposed  to  be  one  of 
the  characteristics  of  Royal  and  Imperial  personages,  nor 
did  he  confuse  dignity  with  that  stiffness  suggestive  of 
"having  swallowed  a  ramrod,"  as  do,  alas!  but  too 
frequently  those  to  whom  dignity  is  but  a  laboriously 
acquired  attitude  —  a  matter  of  mere  pose.  He  was 
invariably  courteous  to  high  and  low  alike,  but  his 
reserve  of  manner  was  singularly  impenetrable,  and  his 
mode  of  speech  gave  one  the  impression  of  a  gentle  and 
sustained    indifference   to   all    that   did   not   touch   his 

9 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

beloved  ones.  In  short,  he  might  have  been  summarized 
by  that  strangely  pathetic  appellation  which  so  often 
calls  forth  the  ridicule  and  merriment  of  the  crowd — a 
dreamer. 

With  his  little  son,  Archduke  Franz-Karl,  like  his 
Imperial  father,  became  the  merest  child,  thoroughly 
happy  with  all  a  child's  pleasure  in  a  long  day  spent 
in  the  woods,  a  search  after  wild  flowers  or  autumn 
berries,  or  in  any  other  simple  amusement  pertaining 
to  the  Golden  Age  of  Youth ;  and  in  these  pursuits  there 
was  true  companionship  between  them,  for  so  far  from 
having  to  descend  to  the  child's  level,  as  Emperor  Fran- 
cis had  done,  he  did  but  follow  the  bent  of  his  own  spirit. 

His  love  of  nature  was  a  part  of  himself,  an  inborn, 
Hellenic  sympathy,  which  is  something  entirely  different 
from  the  pose  of  the  individual  who  thinks  to  do  honor 
to  his  own  cleverness  by  patronizingly  commending 
the  works  of  the  Almighty;  and  different  also  from  that 
of  the  botanizing  fiend  who,  with  his  tin  canister  at  his 
back  and  his  pompous  Latin  jargon,  depoetizes  the  very 
essence  of  nature's  poetry. 

Archduke  Franz-Karl  quietly  enjoyed  the  beauty  of 
the  out-door  world,  feeling  himself  thoroughly  akin  to 
all  that  grew  or  moved  in  it,  all  that  rejoiced  in  the 
sunshine  and  flavored  of  the  soil,  whether  flower  or 
beast  or  man.  He  was  familiar  with  every  mountain 
or  forest  blossom,  and  had  the  love  begotten  of  knowl- 
edge and  long  acquaintance  for  all  the  furred  and  feath- 
ered life  of  the  woodlands,  as  well  as  for  the  stalwart 
Senner  and  Sennerinnen  of  his  favorite  summer  re- 
treats in  Upper  Austria  and  Tyrol. 

One  day  as  little  "Franzi" — then  a  boy  nearly  five 
years  old — was  wandering  with  his  father  under  the 
budding  trees  of  the  park  at  Schonbrunn,  the  child, 
spying  in  the  young  grass  the  first  tuft  of  violets,  de- 

10 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

lightedly  fell  on  his  knees,  and,  kissing  the  flowers  glee- 
fully, exclaimed,  in  his  pretty,  uncertain  German: 

"  Willkommen,  Ihr  hiibsche,  Ihr  susse !  Gott  segne 
euch!"  (Welcome,  you  pretty,  you  sweet!  God  bless 
you!) 

A  sound  of  contemptuous  laughter  came  from  the 
neighboring  shrubbery,  and  Archduchess  Sophia,  twirl- 
ing a  rose-lined  sunshade  on  her  shoulder,  pushed  aside 
the  supple  boughs  of  a  copper-beech,  and  stood  before 
them. 

"You  ridiculous  child!"  she  exclaimed,  with  some 
impatience.  "A  fine  thing  for  a  future  soldier  to 
fraternize  with  budding  violets!" 

Crimson  with  shame,  the  bonny  little  lad  jumped  to 
his  feet,  and  gazed  at  the  tiny,  nodding  blossoms  through 
fast-gathering  tears. 

"Weine  nicht,  Herzchen!"  said  his  father,  bending 
caressingly  over  him,  " Mutzerl  nieint  es  dock  nicht!" 

An  ominous  frown  contracted  the  Archduchess's  del- 
icately pencilled  brows,  and  her  lips  parted  for  further 
reproof,  but  closed  immediately,  her  better  nature  gain- 
ing the  upper  hand.  Stooping  quickly  she  lifted  the 
child  from  the  ground,  and  drawing  his  curly  head  upon 
her  shoulder,  she  soothed  him  with  that  graceful  ten- 
derness to  which  she,  unfortunately,  but  infrequently 
gave  expression,  and  which  transformed  her  ordinarily 
impassive  face  as  a  bright  sun-ray  transforms  a  clear 
and  colorless  ice-crystal  into  a  thing  of  transcendent 
beauty. 

A  scene  from  a  story-book,  say  you?  Not  so!  An 
incident  that  actually  occurred. 

It  is  a  very  thankless  task,  a  weary  undertaking,  to 
tell  the  true  history  of  a  romantic  life.  For  there  are 
many  who  invariably  conclude  that  one  is  disregard- 
ing truth  for  effect — which  is  humiliating  indeed;  and 

ii 


A    KEYSTONE    OP    EMPIRE 

therefore  too  often,  alas!  the  scribe — like  the  artist  who 
does  not  dare,  when  setting  his  palette,  to  approach  the 
gorgeous  coloring  of  nature,  the  dazzling  gold  of  an 
Oriental  sunset,  or  the  flaming  hues  of  tropical  blos- 
soms— hesitates  to  relate  the  real,  the  live,  the  palpi- 
tating, or  even  the  mere  simple  touching  incidents 
which  go  to  make  up  the  existences  of  royal  person- 
ages past  or  present. 

At  ten  years  of  age  Francis-Joseph  was  a  handsome 
boy,  fair  of  skin  and  slender  of  form,  though  very  strong 
and  supple  from  living  much  out-of-doors.  His  bright 
amber  hair  curled  on  his  low,  broad  forehead,  and  his 
eyes  were  -big,  honest,  fearless,  and  of  the  exact  hue  of  a 
forget-me-not.  He  was  tall  for  his  age,  and  possessed  to 
a  supreme  degree  that  air  of  refinement  and  distinction  for 
which  his  mother  was  remarkable,  and  which,  as  I  have 
already  said,  though  not  always  the  result  of  a  patri- 
cian ancestry,  is,  however,  rarely  derived  from  any  other 
source.  Full  of  high  spirits,  there  was  something  charm- 
ing and  contagious  in  his  frank  gayety,  which  was  quite 
devoid  of  boisterousness,  and  rarely  made  him  forget, 
despite  a  quick  and  impulsive  temper,  that  an  absolute 
and  chivalrous  courtesy  is  the  first  duty  of  a  prince. 
Somehow  or  other  he  never  worried  anybody,  as  he 
was  neither  wayward  nor  imperious,  but  so  considerate 
that  his  attendants  were  loud  in  his  praise,  and  though 
by  no  means  that  horror  of  horrors,  a  model  child,  he 
had  a  knack  of  endearing  himself  at  once  and  forever 
to  those  who  had  the  fortune  of  meeting  him  intimately. 

Of  course,  in  spite  of  all  this,  he  thoroughly  well  knew 
that  he  was  a  little  man  of  considerable  importance, 
to  whom  everybody  rendered  homage,  and  whose  tiny 
hand  was  kissed  by  gray-haired  Ministers  of  State  and 
great  nobles;  but  adulation  had  no  bad  effect  upon  him, 
thanks  to  his  affectionate,   sensitive  nature,   and   his 

12 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

almost  alarming  swiftness  in  self-reproach  and  self- 
discontent,  if  I  may  use  such  a  word. 

Sports  of  all  kinds  delighted  him.  At  eight  years  of 
age  he  rode  his  pony  with  consummate  grace  and  skill, 
swam  like  an  otter,  was  a  sure  and  well-drilled  shot  at 
the  target  or  running  mark,  and  could  use  crampons  and 
alpenstock  with  the  same  felicity  as  any  mountaineer 
of  his  own  beloved  Tyrol. 

In  the  Tyrol  it  was  that  from  his  earliest  childhood  he 
found  his  greatest  joys;  for  long  since  his  grandfather's 
and  his  father's  love  of  nature  had  appeared  in  him. 
"A  dreamer  of  dreams,"  his  mother — who  could  never 
appreciate  this  side  of  his  character — called  him,  and 
so,  indeed,  he  may  be  said  to  have  remained  his  life 
long — not  in  the  sense  of  an  indolent  idealist,  for  none 
have  worked  harder  nor  more  conscientiously  than  he, 
but  in  that  of  a  temperament  keenly  alive  to  the  beauti- 
ful in  every  form,  satisfied  with  simple  amusements,  and 
incapable  of  ennui  when  thrown  upon  its  own  resources. 
Then  as  now  he  was  ready  to  fly  back  to  the  tall  hills 
and  lofty  peaks  which  he  loved  so  dearly,  and  there, 
surrounded  by  the  precipices  black  with  pine  and  fir 
shelving  dizzily  downward,  and  wrapped  about  by  the 
utter  silence  of  the  high  ranges — broken  only  by  the 
ripple  of  water  or  the  distant  tinkle  and  rustle  of 
avalanches  on  the  upper  snows — drink  deep  draughts  of 
solitude  and  delicious  loneliness. 

It  was  but  natural  that  this  little  lad,  drawn  as  he 
was  so  irresistibly  to  the  romantic  and  the  ideal,  should 
love  to  wander  in  the  winter  twilight  through  the  great 
panelled  and  tapestried  galleries  of  the  Hofburg,  in 
order  to  watch  the  gleam  of  the  rising  moon  filter 
through  long,  lancet  windows  painted  by  Jacob  of  Ulm 
and  Selier  of  Landshut  in  the  days  of  long  ago,  or  to 
gaze  dreamily  at  the  grim  figures  in  full  armor  keeping 

13 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

their  rigid  and  eternal  vigil  under  the  gorgeous,  gold- 
broidered  banners  adorning  the  walls  in  the  Rittersaal. 

Natural,  also,  though  prophetically  strange,  that  he 
should  be  devoted  to  the  worship  of  St.  Elizabeth  of 
Hungary,  that  gracious  and  poetic  figure  which  after 
so  many  centuries  was  to  find  reincarnation  in  the 
woman  to  whom, "  malgre  tout  ce  que  Von  peut  dire,"  the 
years  of  his  manhood  gave  so  deep  and  true  a  tenderness, 
the  only  woman,  indeed,  he  really  has  loved  as  love 
should  be  loved. 

A  picture  representing  the  noble  wife  of  Louis  of  Hesse 
with  the  miraculous  roses  in  her  lap  was  one  of  the  most 
cherished  possessions  of  his  childhood,  and  to  this  day 
it  hangs  above  the  narrow  camp-bed  which  he  invariably 
uses. 

Yet  through  the  tissue  of  all  his  winning  and  lovable 
qualities,  his  softness  of  heart  and  tender,  affectionate 
nature,  ran  the  strong  strain  of  his  maternal  inheritance, 
like  a  clear  breath  of  mountain  wind  through  the  sweet 
fragrance  of  flowers.  This  showed  itself  especially  in 
his  total  lack  of  self-consciousness,  in  his  honesty  of 
purpose,  and  the  brave,  quiet  determination  that  marked 
him  as  one  who  in  after-times  should  be  of  those  who 
may  be  broken  but  never  defeated,  and  who  amid 
misfortunes  may  say  with  the  poet: 

"Beneath  the  bludgeonings  of  Chance 
My  head  is  bloody,  but  not  bowed." 

His  extreme  consideration  for  others  and  great  gen- 
erosity became  apparent  almost  simultaneously  with  his 
acquisition  of  speech,  and  the  following  little  anecdote 
may  illustrate  what  I  mean : 

One  day  when  he  was  not  yet  quite  four  years  old 
he  had  followed  his  grandfather  into  the  great  tapestried 
hall  where  State   papers  were  daily   brought  for  the 

14 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Imperial  signature.  Even  at  that  time  the  child  was  in 
harmony  with  his  royal  surroundings,  as  he  pattered 
about  with  the  golden  light  of  the  sun  falling  through 
the  painted  panes  of  the  immense  windows  upon  his 
curly  pate,  his  round,  rosy  face,  big  blue  eyes,  and  the 
dove-hued  velvets  and  laces  of  his  little  frock.  The  tiny 
feet  were  noiseless  on  the  thick,  purple  carpet,  and  he 
trotted  around,  joyful  and  unhindered,  stopping  from 
time  to  time  to  examine  the  priceless  vases,  groups  of 
bronze  figures,  and  exquisite  statues  standing  here  and 
there  upon  tables  and  consoles.  Suddenly  in  the  deep 
embrasure  of  one  of  the  windows  he  discovered  the 
sword  of  the  General- Ad judant  on  duty.  Fascinated 
by  the  shimmering  tassels  of  the  porte-epee  and  by  the 
possibilities  of  so  novel  a  plaything,  he  pounced  upon  it, 
bestrode  the  sword,  seized  the  golden  cords  and  tassels 
in  his  chubby  hands,  and,  using  them  as  reins,  began  to 
gallop  up  and  down,  clapping  his  pink  tongue  energet- 
ically to  encourage  his  charger.  The  Emperor  silently 
indicated  the  boy's  characteristic  performance  to  his 
companion,  and  a  wistful  look  came  into  his  eyes,  for 
he  realized  perchance  that  this  delicious  period  of  baby- 
hood was  almost  at  an  end — always  a  sorrow  for  those 
who  really  love  their  children. 

With  a  sudden  impulse  of  the  joy  and  mastery  of  pos- 
session, "Franzi"  gave  his  mount  a  decidedly  vicious 
jerk,  which  tore  apart  the  delicately  wrought  porte-epee 
and  caused  the  great  sword  to  fall  at  his  feet  with  a  terri- 
fying rattle  of  steel.  Consternation  depicted  on  his  little 
face,  where  the  color  had  suddenly  deepened,  and  big  tears 
gathering  in  his  "forget-me-not"  eyes,  he  stood  trans- 
fixed and  completely  overcome  by  the  magnitude  of  his 
crime.  For  a  moment  he  remained  thus;  then  the  two 
men,  watching  him  covertly,  saw  him  slowly  pick  up 
the  dismantled  sabre  and  drag  it  to  where  its  inwardly 

15 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

much-entertained  owner  stood  at  the  Emperor's  elbow. 
Up  went  the  dimpled  hands  bearing  their  heavy  burden, 
and  from  the  piteously  trembling  lips  came  this  as- 
tonishing and  consoling  sentence  : 

' '  Weine  nicht !  Franzi  wird's  bezahlen  wann  er  einmal 
Kaiser  ist!"  (Don't  cry!  "Franzi"  will  pay  for  it 
when  he  is  Emperor!) 

"Franzi's"  intercourse  with  his  brothers  was  not  as 
free  as  is  usually  the  case  when  there  is  but  a  trifling 
difference  of  age.  This  was  due  to  the  fact  that  his 
education  was  directed  entirely  by  his  mother  and  on 
wholly  different  lines  from  theirs,  which  the  father  had 
now  taken  completely  under  his  own  charge.  Of  course 
during  the  summer  months  the  boys  romped  together 
a  good  deal,  but  as  soon  as  the  Imperial  Family  returned 
to  Vienna,  or  even  Schonbrunn,  the  curious  estrangement, 
separating  them  as  virtually  as  if  they  lived  miles  apart, 
was  resumed. 

The  brother  he  loved  best  was  Ferdinand-Maximilian, 
who,  only  two  years  younger  than  himself,  was  best  fit- 
ted to  be  his  companion,  and  from  the  moment  when  the 
child  had  begun  to  walk  "Franzi,"  when  he  was  allow- 
ed to  be  with  him,  had  been  careful  of  his  every  step, 
jealous  of  his  affection,  and  had  tended  him  with  untir- 
ing tenderness,  risking,  indeed,  more  than  once,  life  and 
limb  to  bring  him  down  from  the  mountains  some  covet- 
ed flower  or  bit  of  tinted  quartz. 

Little  Ferdinand  was  a  quaint  child  if  ever  there  was 
one,  and  of  a  serious,  mild,  yielding  disposition,  which, 
alas!  was  to  prove  his  undoing  in  later  years,  when,  to 
satisfy  the  mad  ambition  of  his  Belgian  wife,  he  accepted 
the  crown  and  sceptre  of  Mexico. 

Karl-Ludwig,  who  was  a  year  younger  than  Ferdinand, 
was  not,  like  him,  gentle  and  quiet,  but  singularly 
opinionated,  masterful,  and  eager  to  get  his  own  way  in 

16 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

everything;  "a  proud,  rebellious  child,"  as  his  mother 
would  say.  He  never,  however,  had  "Franzi's"  daring 
and  skill  in  sports,  and  from  the  first  he  did  not  have 
what  one  calls  mm  charactere  facile.  Years  and  educa- 
tion failed  to  change  him,  but  only  "combed  his  hide" 
and  gave  him  a  silken  coat  of  dignity  and  self  -  com- 
» mand  which  sufficed  at  most  times  to  conceal  much 
roughness  and  narrowness  of  mind.  Moreover,  he  was 
very  single-minded  in  all  he  did  and  thought.  He  was 
pleased  or  displeased  with  people  and  with  things, 
recognized  no  half  -  tints  or  half  -  measures,  and  was 
equally  ready  to  give  his  life  up  for  his  friends  and  to 
consign  his  enemies  to  the  tortures  of  the  pit.  A 
passionate,  fiery  soul  under  a  rough  bark  —  that  was 
Karl-Ludwig! 

As  to  Louis-Victor,  the  youngest  of  the  brood,  he  was 
as  yet  but  a  baby,  with  light  yellow  curls,  big  round 
blue  eyes,  and  a  skin  like  a  pink  lily,  and  he  did  not 
enter  into  "Franzi's"  life  excepting  in  the  role  of  an 
animated  doll,  with  which  he  was  occasionally  allowed 
to  play.  Moreover,  this  littlest  one  of  all  was  the 
darling  and  favorite  of  his  aunt  Empress  Maria-Anna, 
who  monopolized  him  and  dreaded  to  see  his  brothers 
romp  with  the  delicate,  often  ailing,  child. 

Poor  Empress!  her  life  was  a  colorless  one,  without 
great  joys  or  deep  sorrows,  but  unspeakably  dreary  in 
its  childless  monotony.  Delicate  and  fragile,  she  took 
no  pleasures  in  the  sports  so  dear  to  all  Austrian 
women,  while  her  Italian  heart  unceasingly  mourned 
the  Court  of  her  father,  King  Victor  Emanuel  of  Sar- 
dinia, where  she  had  lived  in  a  warm  and  sensuous 
atmosphere,  fragrant  with  flowers  and  enlivened  by 
witty  gossip.  To  her  the  feudal  etiquette  of  the  Hof- 
burg,  and  the  long  northern  winters  seemed  alike  very 
terrible,  and  she  only  breathed  entirely  at  ease  when 

17 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

surrounded  exclusively  by  Italians  and  priests,  which 
marked  preference  naturally  caused  her  to  be  ex- 
tremely unpopular  and  freely  accused  of  bigotry,  and 
of  wielding  a  very  deleterious  influence  over  her  Imperial 
husband. 

Little  Louis-Victor  was  a  veritable  godsend  to  her, 
and  this  one  sincere  affection  was  the  only  really  lumi- 
nous spot  in  an  existence  spent  in  alternately  eating  bon- 
bons and  telling  the  beads  of  her  rosary.  "Franzi" 
she  did  not  greatly  like,  for  she  was  absolutely  unable 
to  comprehend  his  daring,  his  intrepidity,  his  love  for 
open-air  pastimes  or  his  delight  in  those  long,  white- 
frozen  months  which  she  so  greatly  hated  and  con- 
temptuously called  "hyperborean!"  "Franzi,"  she  used 
to  say,  "is  too  full  of  vitality;  it  is  fatiguing  to  watch 
him!"  And  when  Archduchess  Sophia  left  Vienna  for 
the  summer  months  the  Empress's  only  regret  was  that 
this  Spartan  mother  should  decline  to  leave  "  Baby  Vic- 
tor" with  his  doting  aunt,  who  spoiled  him  as  it  was,  a 
great  deal  too  much  for  her  taste. 

The  best  time  of  the  year  for  "Franzi "  and  his  broth- 
ers was  just  those  summers  spent  at  Weissenbach  on  the 
Attersee  in  Upper  Austria,  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
spots  of  that  surpassingly  lovely  lake  and  mountain  re- 
gion. The  divinely  blue  sheet  of  water,  closed  in  from 
the  world  by  an  amphitheatre  of  pine-clad  slopes,  sweep- 
ing down  from  the  eternal  snows,  was  to  the  boys  a  con- 
stant source  of  delight,  whether  they  canoed  upon  its 
gleaming  surface,  or  frolicked  and  swam  in  its  clean 
depths  as  soon  as  the  snow-fed  waters  were  sufficiently 
sun- warmed  to  allow  of  such  a  sport. 

In  this  neighborhood  "Franzi's"  greatest  friend  was 
the  now  almost  historically  celebrated  Doppelbauer,  rec- 
tor of  Steinbach,  a  blunt  individual,  who  prided  himself 
upon  speaking  "wie  ihm  der  Schnabel  gewachsen  war"; 

18 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

that  is  to  say,  "just  as  his  beak  grew,"  or,  in  other 
words,  very  much  to  the  point,  and  in  a  remarkably 
unconventional  manner. 

A  character  was  this  old  man,  whose  clever,  humor- 
ous, wrinkled  countenance  constantly  beamed  with 
good -humor.  Of  peasant  birth,  a  son  of  the  soil  in 
heart,  soul,  and  body,  he  lacked  neither  shrewdness  nor 
a  certain  amount  of  learning;  but  a  contented  spirit, 
and  a  great  love  for  his  own  place  and  surroundings, 
led  him  to  seek  no  advancement  or  favor  from  the 
Church  he  so  faithfully  served.  His  very  humble  par- 
sonage was  to  him  a  paradise,  a  daily  cause  for  self- 
congratulation  that  he  had  resisted  all  such  tempta- 
tions, and  his  flowers,  his  orchard,  his  bee-hives,  his 
poultry,  and  his  splendidly  fat,  loudly  grunting  pigs 
were  second  only  in  interest  to  his  parishioners. 

He  had  already  lived  a  long  and  blameless  life  of  true 
devotion  and  some  hardship,  entailed  by  the  prosecution 
of  his  labors  in  his  rough  mountain  parish,  when  the  lit- 
tle Archduke  appeared  to  brighten  his  lonely  and  forced- 
ly rather  monotonous  existence,  and  the  extremely  af- 
fectionate relations  soon  established  between  the  slight, 
elegant  Imperial  child  and  the  rubicund  old  priest  were 
delightful  to  witness.  The  merry,  sympathetic  boy  was 
a  rare  and  enchanting  companion  to  Doppelbauer,  among 
whose  virtues  toadyism  had  no  place,  who  was  totally 
regardless  of  Court  etiquette,  and  far  from  feeling  that 
awe  of  his  future  sovereign  which  might  have  been  ex- 
pected of  a  man  of  his  humble  origin  and  simple  life. 
Indeed,  he  treated  the  child  "tout  a  fait  de  puissance  a 
puissance''  and  with  the  freedom,  ease,  and  sans  gene 
of  a  grandfatherly  playfellow,  loving  him  with  all  the 
strength  of  a  great  simple  heart. 

Early  one  morning,  in  the  summer  of  1840,  "Franzi" 
took  his  way  towards  his  reverend  friend's  modest  abode, 

19 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

accompanied  only  by  his  favorite  dog,  a  huge,  mouse- 
colored  Dane,  whose  big,  gold-pailleted  eyes  were  con- 
stantly fixed  on  his  young  master,  and  whose  erect  ears 
testified  to  his  watchfulness  and  to  his  sincere  and  earnest 
consciousness  of  the  responsibility  resting  upon  him  as 
the  boy's  trusty  guardian.  The  walk  to  the  parsonage 
lay  under  the  cathedral  gloom  of  Siberian  pines  along 
abrupt  slopes  carpeted  by  deep,  soft,  velvety  mosses,  and 
thick  fern-brakes,  and  here  and  there  a  narrow  brook 
made  itself  heard  as  it  tumbled  through  the  dim  green- 
ness to  fall  in  foaming  cascades  into  the  Attersee  far  be- 
low. 

In  the  'priest's  garden  there  was  a  loud  hum  of  bees 
about  the  old-fashioned  stocks,  gillyflowers,  hollyhocks, 
and  snap-dragon  surrounding  great  patches  of  sturdy 
cabbages,  salads,  and  pungent  onions,  while,  in  a  blos- 
soming elderberry -bush  by  the  trim  fence,  a  goldfinch 
sang  at  the  top  of  his  harmonious  little  voice. 

"Franzi,"  pausing  at  the  wicket  just  long  enough  to 
explain  to  the  dog  that  his  size  and  his  big  paws  would 
endanger  the  "Herr  Pfarrer's"  fine  flowers  and  vege- 
tables, and  to  console  the  disappointed  attendant  with  a 
kiss  on  his  beseeching  nose,  ran  into  the  garden  with  a 
face  of  sunshine. 

In  a  far  corner  of  the  enclosure  Doppelbauer  was 
kneeling  amid  his  potatoes,  weeding  and  tending  the 
promising  plants,  and  truth  compels  me  to  add  that  the 
reverend  gentleman  was  excessively  grimy,  his  large, 
sunburned  hands  bearing  ample  testimony  to  his  labor 
amid  the  rich  mould  wherein  the  tubers  throve. 

"Ho,  ho!  Is  that  you,  little  friend?"  he  exclaimed, 
turning  a  crimson  and  perspiring  but  beaming  counte- 
nance towards  his  visitor.  "What  good  wind  blew  you 
here?"  Then  he  added,  with  a  laugh,  "I  can't  shake 
hands  with  you,  I'm  too  dirty." 

20 


A    KEYSTONE    OF   EMPIRE 

"That's  nothing,"  exclaimed  "Franzi,"  extending  his 
smooth,  pink  palm;  but,  seeing  that  his  beloved  "Pfar- 
rer"  refused  to  grasp  it,  a  shade  of  annoyance  cloud- 
ed his  bonny  visage,  and  with  a  little  frown  he  stooped 
quickly,  thrust  his  hand  deep  into  the  dark,  greasy 
earth,  and,  withdrawing  it  thoroughly  coated  with  mire, 
waved  it  triumphantly  under  the  nose  of  his  amazed  and 
delighted  host. 

"Now,"  he  cried  with  a  laugh,  "I'm  just  as  dirty  as 
you  are,  and  you  will  have  to  shake  hands!"  Which 
ceremony  was  accordingly  performed  with  much  enthu- 
siasm and  merriment  on  both  sides. 

They  were  still  chatting  to  their  heart's  content  about 
the  fowls  and  the  fruit,  the  new-laid  eggs  —  which  the 
young  Archduke  loved  to  bring  from  the  nests — and  the 
tiny  green  flies  threatening  the  rose-bushes,  when  they 
were  suddenly  warned  by  the  mid-day  bell  of  the  Kaiser- 
villa  chiming  and  clanging  in  the  distance,  how  long  a 
road,  comparatively  speaking,  lay  between  the  lad  and 
his  dejeuner.  Also,  an  errand  intrusted  to  him  by  his 
mother,  but  which  had,  until  that  moment,  entirely  es- 
caped his  memory,  was  recalled  to  "Franzi's"  mind, 
and  he  said,  coaxingly: 

" '  Herr  Pfarrer,'  mamma  told  me  to  ask  you  if  you  will 
dine  with  us  to-night?" 

Gravely  Doppelbauer  shook  his  large,  shaggy  head, 
wiped  his  hands  upon  his  blue  gardening-apron,  and  ex- 
tracting a  "rat-tail"  snuff-box  from  the  big,  front  pocket 
thereof,  inhaled  a  generous  pinch  of  "sneezing-powder," 
as  "Franzi"  called  it. 

"Won't  you  come?"  the  boy  asked  again,  wistfully. 
"Atch — chew!"  sneezed  the  priest.     "Atch — chew!" 
and,  after  blowing  his  nose  vigorously  in  a  gorgeous  red- 
and-yellow  handkerchief,  he  answered,  roundly: 

"No,  my  boy,  I  won't  come.     I've  got  two  fine  sau- 

21 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

sages  and  some  right  '  schmeckhaft'  (tasty)  sauerkraut 
for  my  supper,  and  that's  much  better  than  the  messes 
cooked  by  your  grand  chef;  they  do  not  agree  with  me 
at  all.  But  you  can  tell  your  good  mother  that  I'll  come 
in  for  dessert.  Your  coffee  is  pretty  fair,  but  for  the 
rest — pfui!"  Which  peroration  was  emphasized  by  a 
grimace  of  the  most  realistic  disgust. 

Somewhat  disappointed,  but  smiling  to  himself  at  the 
thought  of  what  mamma  would  say  to  such  a  very  un- 
sophisticated mode  of  declining  an  invitation,  the  lit- 
tle Archduke  turned  his  face  homeward,  racing  down 
through  the  pine  wood  which  slopes  abruptly  towards 
the  flowery  lawns  of  the  "Schloss." 

Damp  and  dishevelled  from  short-cuts  through  tangled 
undergrowth,  he  burst  into  his  mother's  morning-room: 

" Der  Herr  Pfarrer,''  he  panted,  "will  come  after  din- 
ner. He  does  not  like  the  cooking  here,  but  he  says  the 
coffee  is  good,  and,  do  you  know,  Mutterl,  I  think  he  is 
quite  right." 

As  usual,  when  alone  with  her  boy,  the  Archduchess 
thawed,  and  her  grave  eyes  sparkled  with  genuine  fun. 
"The  'Herr  Pfarrer,'"  she  remarked,  dryly,  "is  quite  a 
connoisseur,  and  so  are  you,  no  doubt!  But  go  now  and 
change  your  damp  shoes,  Bitbi.  Also,  do  not  bring  this 
elephantine  dog  in  here.  He  capsizes  everything  with 
his  interminable  tail." 

When  at  Weissenbach,  I  may  state  here,  Archduchess 
Sophia  was  inclined  to  relax  somewhat  the  severity  of 
her  Spartan  rule,  and  her  younger  children  felt  that  there 
they  were  far  less  outside  her  life.  In  Vienna,  although 
never  unjust,  impatient,  or  unkind  to  them,  yet  her 
stern  stateliness  awed  them,  and  when  she  attended  to 
any  of  their  demands  upon  her  they  knew  by  instinct 
that  her  whole  heart  was  not  in  this  accomplishment 
of  maternal  duty;  so,  very  gradually,  a  slight  and  for  a 

22 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

long  time  almost  imperceptible  jealousy  of  their  elder 
brother  crept  into  their  hearts,  from  whence  it  was 
never  eradicated. 

The  mother,  whose  hand  caressed  "Franzi's"  golden 
curls,  whose  lips  curved  into  a  welcoming  smile  when 
he  came  into  the  room,  who  listened  with  exemplary 
patience  to  his  stammering  Latin,  and  praised  his  still 
unformed  handwriting,  seemed  to  them  a  distant  god- 
dess, proud  and  inflexible,  who  often  rebuked  them  with 
peremptory  and  unyielding  decision — not  as  she  did  to 
him,  a  dear  Mutterl  or  Mutzerl,  in  whose  very  strictness 
the  thoughtful  boy  had  already  perceived  the  best  evi- 
dence of  love.  Of  a  truth,  "Franzi"  alone  aroused  in 
his  mother  those  softer  moods  which  suited  her  so  well. 
She  who,  although  a  pious  daughter  of  Rome,  would 
have  bearded  the  Holy  Father  himself,  and  braved  the 
very  thunders  of  excommunication  when  her  indomi- 
table spirit  was  roused,  who  would  bend  her  will  to  none, 
who  for  days  on  end  when  offended  intrenched  herself 
in  silence  and  pride,  and  who  was  accustomed  to  twist 
human  volition  like  a  willow  wand  in  her  hand,  had 
never  willingly  had  a  harsh  look  for  her  first-born,  from 
the  moment  when,  in  his  babyhood,  she  had  soothed 
and  caressed  and  amused  him,  and  watched  him  falling 
asleep  on  her  lap  with  his  downy  head  nestled  upon  her 
breast.  He  was,  indeed,  her  all,  and  when,  peradvent- 
ure,  an  impatient  word  escaped  her,  it  was  followed  by  a 
throb  of  intolerable  remorse. 

There  was  yet  another  who  escaped  the  half-terrified 
awe  which  the  Archduchess  inspired  in  most  persons,  and 
whom  she  greatly  respected  for  it,  strange  as  it  may  ap- 
pear.    This  was  the  Reverend  Doppelbauer. 

The  excellent  old  priest  arrived  that  evening  in  time 
to  swallow,  with  an  appreciative  smacking  of  the  lips,  a 
cup  of  the  "pretty  fair"  coffee  he  had  so  condescendingly 

23 


A    KEYSTONE    OF   EMPIRE 

commended  earlier  in  the  day.  After  draining  the  last 
drop,  however,  he  looked  pityingly  at  the  tiny  Sevres  toy 
in  which  it  had  been  served,  and,  shrugging  his  heavy 
shoulders,  remarked: 

"Now,  what  nonsense  it  is  to  use  such  thimbles!  I've 
got  a  pint  bowl  at  home  that's  something  like;  but  this 
doesn't  even  hold  enough  to  tickle  the  tongue!" 

They  were  quite  en  famille  on  the  terrace  overlooking 
the  lake;  there  was  the  tinkle  of  coffee-cups,  the  smell  of 
cigar-smoke  mingling  with  that  of  great  beds  of  reseda 
and  heliotrope.  Clinging  to  the  wall  of  the  villa  behind 
them,  two  immense  climbing  roses  were  all  aglow  with 
crimson  and  yellow  blossoms,  and  in  the  distance  the 
ramparts  and  bastions  and  high  pinnacles  of  the  moun- 
tains glittered  under  the  slanting  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

Archduke  Franz-Karl,  stretched  peacefully  in  a  long, 
cane  chair,  dandled  his  youngest  son  on  his  knee,  and 
watching  the  lithe  figure  of  "Franzi,"  as  the  boy  ran 
down  the  steps  towards  the  lake,  saw,  perchance,  in  his 
mind's  eye,  his  grandchildren  reigning  here  when  he  him- 
self would  be  ever  so  old,  and  when  "Franzi "  would  have 
long  been  a  puissant  monarch.  Doppelbauer,  sitting  by 
the  open  glass  door  of  the  now  empty  dining-room, 
blinked  into  his  cup  with  ludicrous  disappointment,  and 
repeated,  ruefully: 

"Ah,  yes;  hardly  enough  to  tickle  the  tongue!" 

Archduchess  Sophia  walked  across  to  him  with  a  full 
cup  in  her  hand.  She  was  dressed  in  white,  and  pearls — 
these  unassuming  gems  of  demi-toilette — were  wound 
round  her  throat;  her  beautiful  hair  was  very  simply 
but  very  perfectly  arranged,  and  she  was  smiling  gayly. 

"Come  'Herr  Pfarrer'!"  she  said,  indulgently.  "I 
am  going  to  prevent  you  from  committing  the  sin  of 
covetousness,  at  least  for  the  present.  Drink  this,  and 
when  you  want  some  more,  I'll  fill  it  again  for  you." 

24 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Oh,  good  Doppelbauer,  did  you  at  this  instant  realize 
that  a  daughter  and  mother  of  kings  was  waiting  upon 
you?  It  did  not  seem  so,  for,  with  a  hearty  laugh,  of  the 
quality  which  the  French  so  graphically  describe  as  un 
rire  gras,  he  coolly  exchanged  cups,  and  allowed  the 
greatly  entertained  Archduchess  to  carry  away  the 
empty  "thimble"  of  precious  china,  calling  after  her, 
cheerily : 

"Ha,  Imperial  Highness,  all  I  ever  covet  are  eatables! 
That's  only  half  a  sin." 

She  laughed  too,  and  sat  down  on  a  low,  cushioned 
chair  to  watch  the  glorious  harvest  -  moon  rise 
above  the  mountains.  At  her  feet  lay  the  great, 
glancing  sheet  of  water,  and  the  wonderful  evening  light 
seemed  to  have  a  voice  that  blended  with  the  silvery 
tones  of  the  church-bell  ringing  the  "Angelus"  behind 
the  pine-crested  slopes  of  a  high  hill  on  the  left.  The 
scene  was  strangely  poetical,  the  lovely  night  aimed  at 
an  atmosphere  of  tenderness,  of  almost  reverent  ro- 
mance, and  with  it  mingled,  ethereal  and  mysteriously 
pathetic,  the  sweet  scent  of  nature  in  night's  silent  hours. 

Suddenly,  on  the  swiftly  brightening  luminous  path 
made  by  Dame  Luna  upon  the  bosom  of  the  lake,  a  tiny 
canoe,  rocking  violently,  appeared.  In  it  stood,  paddle 
in  hand,  the  venturesome  "Franzi,"  swinging  recklessly 
from  side  to  side,  and  evidently  enchanted  with  the  illu- 
sion of  being  tempest -tossed  which  he  was  producing  for 
himself. 

Archduchess  Sophia  rose  to  her  feet  with  a  blanched, 
frightened  face. 

"Oh,  'Herr  Pfarrer,'  please  shout  to  'Franzi'  not  to 
do  that!"  she  exclaimed,  evidently  relying  on  the  old 
man's  superior  power  of  lung. 

He  lazily  turned  his  bullet  head,  glanced  at  the  little 
boat  madly  rolling  about,  watched  for  a  minute  the 

25 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

supple  inclinations  from  right  to  left  of  the  graceful 
figure  poised  perilously  on  its  narrow  thwarts,  and  re- 
sponded, in  broad  patois: 

"  Ach!  Wenn  er  amal  Kaiser  is,  wird  no  mehr  iiber 
eahm  komma,  an  wanner  jetzt  einfallt  zarm  ma'n 
scho'aussa."  (When  he  is  once  Emperor  nothing  will 
touch  him  more,  and  if  he  now  falls  in  we  can  easily  get 
him  out.) 

Alas  for  the  worthy  priest's  prophecy!  How  many 
were  the  things  hidden  in  the  future,  that  were  to  touch, 
and  touch  bitterly  and  keenly,  the  boy  rocking  so  hap- 
pily in  the  canoe! 

In  the  charming  gardens  of  the  "  Kaiservilla "  at 
Weissenbach  was  a  kiosque  overlooking  the  lake,  a  small, 
low  building  made  of  carved,  fretted,  and  fragrant  red 
pine,  surmounted  by  a  pointed,  thatched  roof  overrun 
with  jasmine  and  roses.  Long  locks  of  mauve  and 
white  wistaria  tumbled  down  its  sides,  heavy  with  the 
weight  of  bloom  they  supported,  and  rustled  odorously 
in  the  light  summer  wind,  or  humbly  drooped  their 
glittering,  tearful  petals  when  one  of  the  dense  showers, 
which  are  the  rule  rather  than  the  exception  in  those  re- 
gions, came  to  freshen  the  earth.  It  was  reached  by 
winding  paths  curving  between  tall  syringa,  laburnum, 
lilac,  and  rhododendron  bushes,  and  was  a  place  always 
abounding  in  three  beautiful  things — silence,  flowers, 
and  perfume. 

Here  it  was  that  every  morning  "Franzi"  sat  at  his 
lessons  with  one  or  other  of  his  instructors.  There  were 
not  many  sights  or  sounds  without  to  distract  his  atten- 
tion save  the  ripple  of  the  blue  lake,  faint  bird-songs 
among  the  shadows  of  the  gardens,  a  shepherd  seen  on 
the  opposite  mountain's  flank  driving  his  flock  before 
him,  and  perhaps  yodling  melodiously  to  the  drowsy 
echoes,  or  a  peasant  woman  returning  to  her  chalet  with 

26 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

a  gigantic  bundle  of  fresh-cut  grass  poised  upon  her 
shapely  head.  The  task  done,  all  that  paradise  was  his 
to  range,  but  still  to  him  the  hours  of  study  were  not  a 
time  of  penance,  and  he  willingly  bent  his  curly  pate 
above  ponderous  tomes  and  absorbing  exercises. 

At  the  Hofburg  his  "  school-room  "  was  not  so  poetical, 
and  yet  Archduchess  Sophia,  who  believed,  and  rightly 
so,  that  a  child's  artistic  taste  and  comprehension  should 
be  developed  by  his  surroundings  as  early  as  possible,  in- 
variably devoted  to  this  use,  not  as  is  generally  the  case 
even  for  little  Royal  boys  and  girls,  a  plainly,  nay,  an 
oft  meagrely  furnished  room,  with  glaring  maps  in  lieu 
of  mural  decoration,  and  ink-stained  tables  supporting 
ill -bound  volumes  of  the  most  discouraging  aspect,  but  a 
room  panelled  and  ceiled  with  oak,  carved  in  dead-and- 
gone  days  by  Schuferstein.  Two  great  tapestries  of 
Marc  de  Comans  faced  the  Imperial  boy's  writing-table, 
which  itself  was  a  masterpiece  of  Buhl,  and  the  atmos- 
phere was  kept  warm  and  mellow  by  a  brilliant  fire  of 
cedar  logs  burning  day  and  night  in  a  monumental 
polychrome  stove  of  fifteenth-century  make,  with  beau- 
tifully tinted  tiled  steps  guarded  by  two  wolves  ex- 
quisitely carved  in  green  bronze.  Also  there  were 
always  vases  filled  with  hot  -  house  blossoms  on  the 
centre-table — the  only  touch  of  femininity  about  this 
stately  apartment  which  people  enamored  of  French 
gilding,  gay  hangings,  and  plush  -  covered  furniture 
would  assuredly  have  criticised  as  somewhat  too  severe 
in  style  for  a  child's  study. 

The  Imperial  boy  from  the  very  first  loved  his  lessons 
in  history,  his  eyes  shining  like  stars  when  he  heard  of 
some  grand  deed,  some  heroic  action.  Rudolph  von 
Habsburg  and  Wallenstein  were  among  his  favorite  his- 
torical characters — soldiers  being  always  foremost  in  his 
esteem — and  he  could  have  listened  to  the  records  of  their 

27 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

magnificent  bravery  from  "Matins"  to  "Ave-Maria" 
during  the  long  winter  days  when  the  snow  fell  with 
gentle  pertinacity  upon  the  grim,  gray  courts  of  the 
"Burg,"  or  the  wind  howled  around  its  thick,  granite 
walls  in  a  fitting  accompaniment  to  the  recital  of  these 
Homeric  combats. 

Thus  was  passed  a  singularly  happy  and  peaceful 
childhood,  under  the  wisest  of  regimens,  with  simple 
fare,  and  an  almost  total  absence  of  the  amusements 
we  are  accustomed  to  associate  with  the  life  of  the 
great  of  this  world,  but  beautified  instead  by  harmless 
pastimes  and  out -door  sports  and  occupations  amid 
the  pufe  Alpine  air.  Surrounded,  during  six  months 
out  of  every  twelve,  by  scenes  so  germane  to  his  sunny 
nature,  and  forming  so  fitting  a  background  to  the  gay 
dreams  of  a  lively  boyish  fancy,  the  little  Archduke 
grew  towards  maturity  sound  in  body,  soul,  and  brain. 

When  Archduke  Franz  attained  his  twelfth  year,  his 
mother  decided  that  his  baby  name  of  "Franzi"  should 
now  be  dropped  and  replaced  by  "Franz,"  tout  court,  as 
an  indication  that  he  had  left  childhood  behind  him  and 
had  entered  adolescence.  From  that  day  on,  too,  she 
had  her  younger  children  brought  to  her  more  often, 
drove  out  with  them  occasionally,  inquired  into  their 
studies,  their  amusements,  their  pastimes,  their  com- 
forts, habits,  and  even  their  playthings,  and,  wonder  of 
wonders,  now  and  again  at  the  twilight  hour  they  were 
allowed  to  sit  at  her  feet,  playing,  or  listening  to  the 
legends  and  stories  which  she  excelled  in  telling.  But, 
nevertheless,  her  pride  and  her  hopes  dwelt  as  ever  in 
her  fair-haired  first-born,  whom  she  already  saw  bearing 
the  weight  and  glory  of  the  Dual  Crown. 

In  spite  of  her  stoicism,  however,  she,  like  any  other 
loving  mother,  suffered  acutely  from  this  change,  and 
notwithstanding  her  eagerness  to  urge  on  by  all  possible 

28 


EMPEROR      FRANCIS     T.     (GRANDFATHER      OF      FRANCIS  -  JOSEPH) 

AND     EMPRESS     CAROLINE     IN     THE     IMPERIAL 

BON    AT    Tilt:    THEATRE 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

means  the  moment  when  the  lad  she  was  so  proud  of 
should  reach  full  manhood,  and  therefore  be  ready  to 
ascend  the  steps  of  the  throne,  yet  she  felt  deeply, 
almost  cruelly,  regretful  of  the  days  when  he  had  been 
all  her  own,  her  little,  curly-headed  darling,  coming  to  be 
consoled  for  small  troubles  and  small  pains  within  the 
shelter  of  her  arms. 

When  Emperor  Francis  had  died  in  1835  she  had 
breathed  a  sigh  of  relief,  for  she  had  always  dreaded 
what  she  called  his  "effeminating  influence"  upon  his 
favorite  grandson;  and  when  watching  the  child's  almost 
abnormal  grief  at  that  moment,  when  hearing  him  sob- 
bing aloud  almost  deliriously,  jealous  thoughts,  which, 
like  rust  upon  iron,  had  eaten  deeply  into  her  heart, 
nearly  overcame  her,  and  she  had  had  to  strive  not  to 
treat  the  child  she  adored  with  positive  harshness  in  her 
impatience  at  witnessing  how  great  must  have  been  the 
love  between  those  two. 

Poor  Emperor  Francis!  He  was  sincerely  mourned 
by  his  subjects  far  and  wide,  and  the  feathers  taken  from 
the  pillow  upon  which  he  breathed  his  last,  and  which 
had  very  characteristically  been  distributed  to  the  ladies 
of  the  aristocracy,  are  still  found  in  many  a  patrician 
household  exquisitely  framed  and  sacred  as  were  they 
relics ;  but  his  daughter-in-law  kept  no  such  memento,  for 
had  he  not  been  a  dangerous  stumbling-block  in  her  path  ? 
After  all,  she  was  inclined  to  think,  everything  happens 
for  the  best  in  this  uncertain  and  changeful  world  of 
ours,  even  the  accession  of  her  timid,  weak,  delicate 
brother-in-law,  Ferdinand,  whom  at  heart  she  despised, 
for  he  would  at  least  make  a  wonderful  foil  for  the  Em- 
peror she  was  fashioning,  as  a  great  sculptor  fashions  the 
clay  of  a  future  chej-d'ccuvrc. 

Her  Franz!  The  greatness  of  his  race,  the  greatness 
of  his  future,  were  wellnigh  sacred  things  to  her,  and  far 

29 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

dearer  than  her  own  pride.  She  never  tired  of  telling 
him  of  his  obligations  and  privileges,  pointing  out  to  him 
his  proud  descent,  like  a  dazzling  line  of  light  streaming 
down  to  him  through  the  darkness  of  the  ages  to  guide 
his  footsteps.  All  ordinary  emotion  of  maternity,  all 
softening  recollections  of  her  own  childhood,  were  near- 
ly killed  in  her  by  her  consciousness  that  it  was  she, 
and  she  alone,  who  was  predestined  to  be  the  mentor  of 
this  King,  and  that  her  hands  might  mould,  her  spirit 
create,  that  superb  and  dazzling  creature  of  her  dreams 
— a  perfect  Monarch. 

Weaker  women  would  have  asked  for  counsel.  She 
was  her  'own  and  her  son's  sole  law -giver.  She  did 
not  even  seek  to  ease  her  often  overburdened  spirit  by 
confiding  to  others  the  anxieties  that  possessed  her  dur- 
ing long,  wretched  nights  of  pondering,  long  days  of 
earnest  reflection  upon  the  then  far  from  reassuring 
state  of  her  son's  inheritance,  but  kept  silence,  indomi- 
tably scorning  the  tribunals  of  all  human  wisdom  save 
her  own. 

"God  must  see  the  grandeur  of  my  endeavor,"  she  once 
said,  "and  His  help  is  all  I  demand." 

"  Ap 'prendre  a  faire  son  metier  de  souverain!"  This 
was  what  Archduke  Franz  had  now  to  do,  and  it  must 
be  confessed  that  nothing  was  neglected  which  could 
help  him  thereto,  and  also  that  he  himself  showed  re- 
markable good- will  and  aptitude  in  so  doing. 


CHAPTER    II 

"Franzi,"  the  simple-hearted  boy  who  had  infinitely 
preferred  the  society  of  Doppelbauer  to  that  of  courtiers, 
and  the  simple  joys  of  country -life  to  the  amusements  of 
cities,  had  now  to  relinquish  both,  to  a  certain  extent, 
and  to  turn  his  undivided  attention  to  all  the  branches  of 
science  and  of  practical  knowledge  necessary  for  him  to 
study. 

The  days  when  his  tutors,  Count  Heinrich  Bombelles 
and  Count  Johann  Coronini,had  sought  to  awaken  and 
set  in  motion  his  childish  intelligence  under  the  inter- 
lacing roses  of  the  lake-pavilion  at  Weissenbach  were 
but  a  memory,  and  together  with  four  young  nobles — 
his  "brothers-in-arms,"  as  he  called  them — Prince  Rich- 
ard Metternich,  son  of  the  great  Chancellor;  Count  Karl 
Bombelles,  son  of  his  tutor,  and  who,  after  a  very  check- 
ered career,  became,  many  years  later,  the  instructor  of 
poor,  ill-fated  Crown-Prince  Rudolf;  Count  Franz  Coro- 
nini,  son  of  his  second  tutor,  and  finally  Count  Taafe, 
afterwards  one  of  Austria's  greatest  Prime-Ministers, 
Archduke  Franz  began  his  military  training  under  Colo- 
nel von  Hauslab,  a  superb  soldier  and  a  man  of  talent, 
warm-hearted,  conscientious,  and  brave. 

Nor  was  this  training  child's  play,  for  the  future  Ruler 
of  Austro-Hungary  was  made  to  begin  at  the  very  be- 
ginning, just  like  any  other  recruit,  and  if  his  clothes 
were  finer,  his  food  better  prepared,  and  his  lodging  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  the  rest  of  his  Majesty  Ferdinand 
I.'s  private  soldiers,  the  fatigues  entailed  by  the  break- 

31 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ing  of  his  Majesty's  nephew  to  harness  were  by  no  means 
lighter  than  those  endured  by  them.  He  was  completely 
given  up  to  the  grasp  of  that  great  war  mechanism  which 
untiringly  turns  out  what  the  French  graphically  term 
"de  la  chair  a  canon,"  and  sometimes  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  he  had  himself  become  a  piece  of  machinery,  a  mere 
mannikin  making  gestures  in  obedience  to  a  wire  pulled 
by  a  ruthlessly  authoritative  hand.  He  was  made  to 
groom  his  own  horse,  to  saddle  and  bridle  and  feed  it, 
to  serve  and  manoeuvre  a  cannon.  He  was  put  through 
ordinary  infantry  drill,  was  taught  to  lay  mines  under  the 
direction  of  a  colonel  of  sappers,  to  handle  a  pick  and 
shovel  -shoulder  to  shoulder  with  the  gray-uniformed 
men  of  the  pioneer  corps,  and  from  six  in  the  morning 
until  late  at  night  the  lad  labored  almost  unceasingly, 
dropping  rifle  or  sword  only  to  sit  before  a  desk  where 
his  theoretical  and  classical  education  was  pursued  most 
industriously. 

None  but  the  young  Archduke  himself  knew  at  that 
time  the  extent  of  the  sacrifice  he  was  making,  not  to 
his  own  ambition,  but  to  his  mother's,  in  thus  turning 
his  every  thought  and  effort,  and  devoting  his  every 
moment  to  the  accomplishment  of  her  wishes,  and  in- 
deed, a  budding  sportsman  like  himself,  keen  of  eye  and 
swift  of  foot,  fond,  above  all  things,  of  freedom  and  of 
out-door  pastimes,  must  have  suffered  exceedingly  under 
this  iron  ferule  of  science  and  learning. 

Count  Taafe,  who  was  his  favorite  "brother-in-arms," 
told  me  one  evening,  as  we  sat  amid  the  giant  holly- 
hocks, the  flowering  linden-trees,  and  the  ripening  cher- 
ries of  a  delicious  garden  mirrored  in  the  calm,  broad, 
moonlit  waters  of  the  Moldau — or  rather  the  Veltava,  as 
that  beautiful  river  is  called  by  its  soft,  melodious  Czech 
name — how  he  had  often  watched  his  Imperial  comrade 
curb  torturing  restlessness,  feverish  impatience,  and  an 

32 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

almost  unconquerable  desire  to  revolt,  with  a  determina- 
tion and  a  force  seemingly  sufficient  to  make  his  every 
muscle  and  mental  fibre  break  and  snap,  until  he  had 
mastered  himself  and  sat  quiet  and  victorious  with  big 
beads  of  moisture  on  his  pale  brow.  How,  also,  many 
years  later,  Francis-Joseph  had  confessed  to  him  that  he 
had  several  times  been  on  the  point  of  shaking  himself 
free  from  his  trammels,  and  had  held  on  only  by  sheer 
force  of  will,  battling  with  himself  until  he  felt  absolutely 
broken  and  tired  out,  and  was  once  more  passive  and 
subdued,  like  a  beaten  horse.  Then,  pitilessly,  fiercely, 
he  lashed  himself  forward,  starting  afresh  again  and  again 
in  this  superb  conquest  of  self. 

Still  he  was  far  from  really  disliking  the  strange  and 
interesting  experiences  which  were  his,  spending,  as  he 
did,  so  many  hours  of  the  day  among  the  rank  and  file — 
laborers,  artisans,  and  peasants — gathered  together  by 
the  great  military  dredge  from  every  corner  of  the  Em- 
pire, and  all  and  sundry  helped  to  make  of  him  the  man 
he  has  become — well-informed,  and  understanding,  with 
the  sympathy  born  of  personal  contact,  the  lives,  the 
sorrows,  and  the  joys  of  the  lowliest  of  his  people. 

He  was  at  once  oppressed  and  stimulated  by  that  high 
ideal,  that  shadowing  forth  of  the  unattainable  which 
his  own  soul  no  less  than  his  mother  held  ever  before  his 
eyes,  and  dreading  not  to  justify  his  birthright  by  dis- 
tancing his  compeers,  he  worked  with  desperate  energy, 
alternately  confident  and  despairing  of  success. 

Gradually,  however,  the  brave  lad  became  more  silent 
and  reserved;  he  withdrew  into  himself  and  brooded 
alone  over  the  heavy  burden  of  his  destiny,  until  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  form  of  the  Ruler  he  was  to  be 
took  shape  and  hue,  and  stood  forth  from  the  atmos- 
phere embodied  at  his  side.  He  saw  it  with  his  bodily 
eyes,  he  spoke  to  it  (this  I  have  from  his  own  lips),  it 
3  33 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

went  with  him  wherever  he  went,  and  was  his  constant 
companion.  He  believed  this  brilliant,  intangible  form 
to  be  his  fate,  and  if  it  were  absent  he  feared  lest  it 
should  wish  to  forsake  him,  and  would  pursue  it  in 
spirit,  entreating  its  return.  As  if,  indeed,  our  fate 
could  be  avoided  or  lost!  Alas,  whether  we  love  or 
abhor  it,  it  will  surely  and  steadily  attend  our  steps,  for 
such  is  the  law,  immutable  as  those  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians! 

In  turn  the  future  Emperor  of  Austro-Hungary  was 
placed  under  the  orders  of  Colonel  Loschner,  Captain 
Sachse,  Lieutenant  Kappler,  Major  Eitel  von  Seean, 
Colonel  Dominick  Beck,  Captains  Giesl,  Wustefeld,  Sing- 
er, Baron  von  Smola,  etc.,  as  he  passed  from  the  infantry 
to  the  cavalry,  from  the  artillery  to  the  sappers,  the 
Jagers  and  the  pioneers,  until  at  last  he  himself  became 
able  to  command  the  officers  who  had  taught  him,  and 
who  reddened  with  pride  when  the  clear,  young  voice  of 
their  beloved  pupil  shouted  an  order  to  them  across  the 
parade-ground. 

Gradually,  slowly,  too,  but  steadily  and  surely,  a 
great  alteration  became  noticeable  in  the  Imperial 
youth. 

There  is  a  flowering  of  knowledge  and  of  dearly 
bought  experience  distinct  as  the  burgeoning  of  an  or- 
chard in  spring.  Sometimes  the  face  of  a  boy  merging 
into  manhood  becomes  almost  insolent  with  triumph 
when  the  nature  of  that  boy  happens  to  be  evil;  some- 
times it  is  wistful  in  its  shy  and  painful  lack  of  self-confi- 
dence, although  the  strong,  brave  heart  may  pulsate  for 
the  days  and  the  great  deeds  that  are  to  come;  and 
again,  it  may  show  the  inane  satisfaction  of  a  being 
entirely  pleased  with  himself,  and  daring  the  future  to 
teach  him  something  he  does  not  already  know. 

None  of  these  feelings  were  to  be  read  on  Archduke 

34 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Franz's  handsome  countenance;  there  dwelt  there  usu- 
ally a  thoughtful  expression,  suggestive  of  hidden  and 
unfathomed  depths,  and  through  his  eyes,  clear  and 
blue  and  honest  as  in  earlier  years,  shone  a  soul  of 
truth,  a  proud  reserve  of  latent  patience  and  courage, 
with  already  more  than  a  hint  of  an  inflexible  deter- 
mination surprising  in  so  young  a  man. 

He  had  become  extremely  attached  to  the  army,  both 
as  its  future  commander,  and  also  as  an  integral  part 
thereof,  belonging  to  it  body  and  soul — perchance  be- 
cause he  had  begun  to  learn  all  about  it  at  an  age  when 
most  boys  are  ignorant  of  even  the  more  ordinary  no- 
menclature of  military  matters.  A  passionate  devotion 
to  the  heroes  of  antiquity  interfered  to  a  certain  extent 
with  his  comprehension  and  appreciation  of  the  great 
captains  of  modern  times ;  but  this  delving  into  the  past 
through  the  medium  of  books  and  black  letter-records, 
this  sedulous  raking  among  the  ashes  of  dead  centuries, 
brought  to  him  the  tonic  effect  of  many  an  example,  and 
many  a  precept  that  braced  him  to  the  arduous  task  of 
resisting  the  lavish  flattery  and  enervating  adulation  to 
which  all  Royal  personages  are  exposed.  He  always 
preferred  warriors  to  diplomats  and  politicians,  and  felt 
himself  more  in  sympathy  with  men  in  action  than  with 
scheming  minds — a  mental  attitude  which  was  placed 
to  his  credit  by  most  of  those  who  prophesied  for  him 
a  splendid  career  once  he  had  ascended  the  throne. 

It  was  a  distinct  piece  of  good-fortune  for  a  man  des- 
tined to  rule  over  the  most  polyglottic  territory  in  the 
universe,  that  he  was  so  remarkably  quick  at  acquiring 
languages.  His  excellent  and  perfectly  trained  musical 
ear  helped  him  greatly  in  the  pronunciation  of  the  bar- 
baric consonants  with  which  Hungarian,  Slovak,  Czech, 
and  most  of  the  other  idioms  of  the  Dual-Empire  abound, 
and  as  early  as  October,  1847,  he  won  the  hearts  of  the 

35 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Magyars  when,  for  the  first  time  speaking  in  public  as 
the  Emperor's  representative,  he  addressed  them  in 
their  own  tongue  instead  of  making  use,  as  was  cus- 
tomary on  such  occasions,  of  the  Latin  language.  The 
enthusiasm  knew  no  bounds,  and  loud  Eljens  repeatedly 
drowned  the  young  orator's  voice,  for  every  Hungarian 
present  felt  the  compliment  to  his  nation,  and  when,  a 
few  months  afterwards,  Kossuth  reminded  the  hot- 
headed, royal-hearted  Magyars  of  this  incident  at  a  mo- 
ment of  great  danger  for  the  Habsburg  dynasty,  the  re- 
sponse was  immediate,  and  all  vied  in  showing  their 
appreciation  of  an  Austrian  Prince  who  had  not  thought 
it  beneath'his  dignity  to  learn  their  difficult  language  so 
as  to  be  able  to  address  them  directly,  without  the  me- 
diation of  priests  or  interpreters.  From  that  moment, 
to  the  Hungarian  mind,  even  during  the  days  of  the  rebel- 
lion, he  was  a  personality  apart  from  his  entire  House. 

That  keen-witted,  keen -eyed  woman,  Archduchess 
Sophia,  realized  perfectly  that  at  the  completion  of  his 
studies  her  handsome  boy  would  enter  into  that  period — 
dangerous  to  all  young  men,  but  especially  to  one  cast 
amid  the  countless  temptations  which  environ  Royal 
personages — when  the  slumbering  senses  awaken.  Nor 
was  she  to  be  blamed  for  almost  morbidly  dreading  the 
feminine  adorations,  which  would  be  thrown  at  a  Prince 
whose  personal  and  intellectual  gifts  would  have  made 
him  a  singularly  winning  and  seductive  youth,  even  had 
he  belonged  to  any  other  and  much  humbler  walk  of  life. 
Her  only  hope  was  in  his  extreme  fastidiousness  and  deli- 
cacy of  mind  and  tastes — in  these  there  would  assuredly 
be  salvation  from  any  ordinary  intrigue — but  still  she 
incessantly  watched  him  with  terrified  anxiety,  lest  all 
that  was  so  deliciously  spiritual  and  innocent  in  him 
should  be  destroyed  by  the  merciless  witchery  of  illicit 
love,  for  she  was  too  thorough-paced  a  woman  of  the 

36 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

world  not  to  know  that  the  first  passion  of  a  boy  colors 
all  his  future,  and  that  he  who  has  once  passed  the  gates 
of  disillusion  never  quite  recovers  from  the  shock  nor 
regains  a  tithe  of  the  self-esteem  he  has  sacrificed. 

"A  blonde  aux  yeux  noirs!"  I  have  been  told  that 
there  is  but  one  thing  men  of  taste  admire  as  much,  and 
that  is  a  "Brune  aux  yeux  bleus,"  but  that  they  are  both 
surpassed  by  a  "  Rousse  aux  yeux  gris!"  Of  course, 
much  depends  upon  the  face,  the  figure,  and  the  personal 
witchery  of  such  charmeuses,  but  in  Austria  dark-eyed 
blondes,  beautiful  of  face  and  form,  are  not  the  excep- 
tion, but  very  nearly  the  rule,  as  many,  many  brave 
gentlemen  of  that  enticing  and  fascinating  country  have 
known  to  their  cost. 

Well,  once  upon  a  time — to  be  precise,  in  1847 —  there 
breathed  and  loved  at  the  Court  of  a  puissant  monarch — 
Emperor  Ferdinand  of  Austria — to  conceal  nothing  of 
this  little  fairy  tale — just  such  a  siren,  a  "blonde  aux 
yeux  noirs, "  with  eyes  long  and  dark  and  exceeding  lus- 
trous, embellished  yet  more  by  a  provoking  droop  of 
curly  lashes,  and  by  delicately  pencilled  eyebrows,  as 
dark  as  they.  Her  tresses  were  not  only  blond — they 
were  of  purest  gold,  of  spun  sunbeams,  or,  good  people, 
if  you  should  prefer  it  so  put,  as  sparkling  as  if  daintily 
powdered  and  frosted  with  some  extraordinarily  brill- 
iant yellow  diamond  dust.  What  has  such  hair  to  do 
with  the  hackneyed  "ripe  corn,"  "amber,"  or  "copper" 
similes  so  dear  to  novelists?  Nothing  whatsoever,  I 
assure  you;  it  was  much,  much  finer  than  all  these! 

Add  to  the  above  enumeration  a  dazzlingly  fair  skin,  a 
small,  straight,  imperceptibly  tip-tilted  nose,  with  deli- 
cately rose-tinted  nostrils  of  an  emotional,  vibrating 
type,  lips  full,  sensuous,  red  as  the  bud  of  the  pomegran- 
ate, disclosing  short,  pearl-white  teeth,  a  slender  but 
perfectly  rounded  figure,  singularly  tiny  feet  and  hands, 

37 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

and  that  most  surpassingly  excellent  thing  in  woman,  a 
voice  low,  rich,  and  sweet,  and  you  will,  I  believe,  see 
before  your  mind's  eye  a  marvellously  lovely  being 
whom  Greuze  would  have  rapturously  immortalized 
had  he  only  been  wise  enough  to  avoid  the  fatal  error 
of  coming  into  the  world  a  great  deal  too  soon. 

Nor  do  I  desire  it  to  be  overlooked  that  this  en- 
chantress was  by  birth,  and  by  marriage  as  well,  en- 
titled to  crown  her  glittering  curls  with  a  "  couronne 
fermee,"  " ce  qui  ne  gdte  jamais  joli  visage.'' 

Diogenes  himself  could  have  been  pardoned  for  falling 
a  victim  to-such  a  being,  especially  if  he  had  been  granted 
the  sight  of  her  half  -  searching,  half -bashful  glances, 
through  those  strangely  silky  lashes,  or  heard  her  mock- 
ing, tantalizing,  tinkling,  bewitching,  airy  laugh. 

A  beauty  whose  insouciance  and  piquant  freedom  of 
speech  and  manner  have  all  the  grace  taught  by  the 
breeding  of  Courts  is  fatally  dangerous  and  dangerously 
fatal,  for  there  is  simply  no  escaping  such  a  combination. 
Our  siren  was,  moreover,  the  most  capricious  coquette 
that  ever  broke  hearts  with  a  fan-handle,  peeping  the 
while  with  mischievous  cruelty  around  the  corner  of  her 
noli-me-tangere  shield,  in  a  fashion  which  even  St.  An- 
thony— one  may  as  well  cite  celebrities  while  about  it 
— would  assuredly  not  have  resisted. 

How  could  anybody  doubt  that  when  young  Archduke 
Franz  came  face  to  face  with  this  entrancing  apparition 
he  would  fall  a  victim  to  her  extraordinary  charm? 
The  fateful  meeting  took  place  on  a  gala  night  at  Schon- 
brunn,  in  one  of  those  superb  salons  still  rustling  with 
the  melodious  swish  of  robes  a  la  Pompadour,  and  the 
echo  of  eighteenth-century  "  galanteries" — a  true  replica 
of  Versailles  in  its  palmiest  days  —  with  the  delicate 
fragrance  of  poudre  a  la  Marechale  and  of  Frangipani 
lingering  in  the  pale  brocades  of  its  draperies. 

3* 


■ 

o 


> 

H 

x 
m 

d 

o 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

On  that  particular  night,  in  spite  of  the  grievously 
troubled  political  horizon,  the  great  palace  was  full  of 
color,  of  life,  of  music,  and  of  laughter.  Entering  the 
salon  in  question,  and  finding  it  untenanted,  as  he 
thought,  the  young  Archduke  was  about  to  retreat  to  the 
terrace,  when,  framed  by  the  faint  greens  and  pinks  of  the 
window-curtains,  he  caught  sight  of  the  slender,  graceful 
form  of  a  woman  thrown  out  in  exquisite  relief  against 
the  moonlit  haze  of  the  flower-laden  terrace  beyond. 

Clad  in  ivory -hued  laces,  and  with  a  diadem  of 
gigantic  emeralds  sparkling  in  her  dazzling  hair,  stood 
this  loveliest  of  all  lovely  Court  beauties,  her  dark  eyes 
dancing  with  sunny  laughter,  her  sweet  lips  half  parted, 
her  ridiculously  small  hands  holding  back  the  curtains 
which  had  concealed  her,  intentionally,  until  then — a 
picture  quite  inimitable  in  its  soft,  delicious  brilliancy. 

For  a  moment  the  young  man  stood  transfixed  and  to- 
tally startled  out  of  his  usual  self-possession,  then  he 
bowed  profoundly,  with  the  Old-World  courtesy,  which 
sat  so  well  on  this  tall,  slim,  blond-locked  boy  of  seven- 
teen. 

Love  is  a  quick  match,  easily  lighted,  which  often 
flares  into  burning  flame  at  a  single  glance,  and  from  the 
instant  when  he  set  eyes  on  that  seductive,  bizarre,  irre- 
sistible beauty,  with  her  dangerous  under-glances  and  her 
childlike  bloom,  as  dainty  as  the  flush  on  a  sea-shell,  a 
dizzy,  breathless,  all-consuming  intoxication  mastered, 
snared,  and  captivated  him  against  his  will. 

This  was  the  first  whisper  of  love's  song,  that  music 
which,  alas!  so  often  leads  a  man,  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  sweetest  melody,  from  the  snowy-perfumed 
arms  of  Circe  to  wreck  and  death  and  despair. 

Archduchess  Sophia  when  she  saw  them  together 
looked  on  aghast  and  horrified.  She  knew,  without 
the  consoling  possibility  of  a  doubt,  that  this  queen  of 

39 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

loveliness  was  a  coquette,  absolutely  merciless  in  her 
wiles,  a  woman  intensely  selfish,  heartless,  one  of  those 
who  "live  on  the  censing  of  fools,  and  spend  their  time 
in  fooling  wise  men,"  and  she  decided  to  resort  to  he- 
roic measures  in  order  to  remove  her  "future  sover- 
eign" from  the  influence  of  this  particular  blonde  aux 
yeux  noirs. 

The  young  man  had  but  very  little  in  common  at  that 
time  with  the  easy-going,  merry,  happy-go-lucky  Vien- 
nese whom  he  so  sincerely  loved  and  admired.  Courtly, 
silent,  extraordinarily  self-contained  for  his  age,  pas- 
sions swift  and  strong  had  lain  dormant  within  him 
until  partially  awakened  by  the  gloriously  beautiful 
woman  whom,  having  met,  he  was  to  leave  almost  at 
once. 

Had  the  spell  not  been  broken  at  one  blow,  the  risk 
for  him  would  have  indeed  been  great,  for  he  was  as  yet 
too  young  and  inexperienced  to  perceive  her  tactics  and 
to  defy  them,  as  well  as  to  prevent  his  pulses  from 
quickening  under  the  fire  of  her  lustrous  eyes;  and, 
moreover,  clever  enchantress  that  she  was,  she  had, 
even  in  the  short  days  of  their  acquaintance,  managed 
to  impress  him  with  the  many  alleged  sorrows  of  her 
life,  and  posed,  with  misleading  and  astonishing  art,  as 
a  Miranda  married  to  a  Caliban,  although  this  was 
decidedly  overstraining  the  truth.  Her  lord  was  neither 
particularly  young  nor  particularly  attractive,  yet  he 
was  neither  a  fool  nor  a  knave.  Moreover,  he  was  very 
much  in  love  with  her,  and,  being  exceedingly  wealthy, 
delighted  in  satisfying  her  every  caprice.  Nevertheless, 
her  sweet,  pathetic  attitude  of  femnie  incomprise  ap- 
pealed strongly  to  the  chivalry  which  was  Archduke 
Franz's  most  marked  characteristic,  and  his  eyes  inva- 
riably softened  with  adoring  pity  and  boundless  sym- 
pathy when  they  met  hers. 

40 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

It  had  long  been  decided  that,  his  studies  completed, 
Archduke  Franz  should  be  appointed  Governor  of  Bo- 
hemia, the  dignity  to  be  assumed  as  soon  as  he  had 
accomplished  a  series  of  Royal  and  Imperial  visits 
throughout  Europe.  But  political  events,  and  especially 
the  arrival  upon  the  scene  of  the  dusky-eyed  blonde,  in- 
terfered decisively  with  this  carefully  laid  plain. 

The  tempest  which  was  beginning  to  rage  both  within 
and  without  Austro  -  Hungary  gave  the  Archduchess  a 
more  than  valid  excuse  to  momentarily  eloigner  her  son. 
Of  course  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  receive  his  baptism 
of  fire,  and  with  an  aching  heart,  but  unfalteringly,  the 
mother  took  the  first  step  in  the  scheme  which  put,  for 
the  first  time,  many,  many  miles  of  battle-ravaged  coun- 
try between  herself  and  the  only  being  she  loved  in  the 
world,  and  also  before  all  was  said  or  done,  placed  in  his 
young  hands  the  reins  of  government  amid  Sturm  und 
Drang. 

The  situation  of  Austro-Hungary  was  at  that  moment 
a  truly  lamentable  one,  for  that  unhappy  country  was 
at  war  with  a  twofold  enemy ;  at  war  with  Italy  beyond 
the  borders,  and  at  home,  alas!  with  a  steady  wave  of 
disloyalty  and  revolt  rapidly  arising,  which  threatened 
to  submerge  and  destroy  the  monarchy  itself.  Indeed, 
the  very  air  seemed  instinct  with  black  despair,  and 
from  none  knew  where  a  sense  of  some  dim,  portentous 
tragedy — as  yet  distant,  but  approaching  swiftly — that 
threatened  the  trembling  star  of  the  Habsburgs,  crept 
into  every  loyal  heart. 

Rising  revolution  closed  in  the  pathway  to  the  future 
as  a  gloomy,  crumbling  tunnel  might  that  of  an  onward 
rushing  train,  and  so  terrifying  was  its  menacing  dark- 
ness that  Austrians  may  well  be  pardoned  if  they  did 
not  then  realize  that  their  beloved  Fatherland  was  rush- 
ing towards  the  light,  after  all,  and  that  the  boy  who 

41 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

was  soon  to  assume  control  of  that  mad  and  headlong 
course  would,  with  all  his  brave  young  heart  filled  but 
by  one  thought — that  of  saving  Crown  and  honor,  and 
of  bringing  safely  into  prosperity  the  country  which  by 
Right  Divine  was  his  to  rule  —  succeed  in  his  terrible 
task  beyond  all  expectations. 

In  the  spring  of  1848  Archduchess  Sophia  had  a  long 
and  tumultuous  interview  with  the  Emperor,  which  re- 
sulted in  his  future  successor  being  allowed  to  join  Field- 
Marshal  Count  Radetzky  at  Verona,  where  the  old  hero 
was  encamped,  and  as  soon  as  this  was  done  the  delight- 
ed youth,  who,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  martial  ardor  had, 
for  the  time  being  at  least,  forgotten  his  dawning  pas- 
sion, set  off  for  the  field  of  war  at  the  head  of  the  Third 
Regiment  of  Dragoons,  of  which  he  was  colonel  both  de 
jure  and  de  facto. 

A  terrible  void  was  left  in  the  hearts  and  lives  of  his 
parents  by  his  departure,  and  Archduchess  Sophia,  to 
whom  he  had,  until  very  lately,  brought  nothing  but 
unclouded  satisfaction,  began  to  ascend  the  Calvary  of 
all  mothers  in  fear  and  trembling  for  their  sons'  lives. 
Even  she,  the  stout  of  heart,  almost  broke  down  when 
bidding  him  Godspeed  —  a  weakness  which  she  would 
never  have  forgiven  herself.  Indeed,  the  few  who  wit- 
nessed that  good-bye  scene  noticed  that  she  closed  her 
eyes  for  a  moment,  as  if  striving  for  control,  and  that  a 
slight  sound,  like  a  quick  catching  of  the  breath,  escaped 
from  her  white  lips. 

Poor  Archduchess!  this  struggle  between  her  cruel 
anxiety  for  the  safety  of  her  son,  her  absolute  horror 
of  showing  how  deeply  she  felt  the  impending  separa- 
tion, and  with  all  her  disgust  at  discovering  that  she, 
strong-minded  par  excellence,  should  be  but  a  tender, 
loving,  frightened  mother,  like  the  rest  of  that  long- 
suffering   genus,  was  nearly   the   final  undoing  of  her 

42 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

stoical  philosophy,  and  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  this  hour 
would  drive  her  beyond  the  confines  of  reason. 

There  are  moments  when  such  a  catastrophe  seems 
imminent,  when  a  human  creature  is  tortured  to  this 
bitter  extreme,  and  when  all  normal  faculty  of  self-con- 
trol, all  power  of  considering  matters  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  necessary,  the  practical,  or  the  expedient,  is 
suddenly  and  terribly  withdrawn.  Keenly  realizing  all 
this,  the  mother  silently  fought  for  strength  to  retain  her 
habitual  marble  mask,  but  the  effort  was  one  of  those 
that  sometimes  kill,  and  a  blank  look  came  upon  her  face, 
the  look  that  usually  precedes  a  fainting  fit,  and  the 
hands  which  she  had  mechanically  stretched  towards 
him  wavered  confusedly,  as  if  groping  in  the  dark  for 
something. 

Meanwhile  her  "Franzi" — nothing  but  her  own  "lit- 
tle Franzi"  now — stood  before  her  in  his  campaigning 
uniform,  a  slight,  almost  imperceptible  tremor  passing 
over  his  face  from  the  lips  upward  to  the  eyes,  although 
he  was  apparently  wholly  absorbed  in  the  arrangement 
of  his  sword-knot. 

Neither  attempted  to  speak.  Again  the  mother's 
slightly  trembling  hands  were  hesitatingly  held  out,  and 
then  impatiently  drawn  back,  as  if  the  controlling  spirit 
had  laid  a  harsh,  restraining  grasp  upon  the  bridle  of 
impulse.  Suddenly  the  tension  broke,  the  young  war- 
rior seized  her  violently  in  his  arms,  and,  with  closed 
eyes,  pressed    his   face   hard   against   her   neck,  like   a 


ild  in  pain. 

*         * 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

*         * 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

*         * 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

*         * 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

* 

Northern  Italy,  in  the  early  spring,  is  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  paradise  which  man  can  visit,  with  its  cypress 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

woods  and  olive-groves  of  silvered  green,  its  clambering 
rose-vines  hanging  fragrant  blossoms  from  every  bough, 
its  thickets  of  camellia  and  rhododendron,  its  fields  of 
lilies,  where  purple  dissolves  into  blue  and  crimson,  blue 
into  a  thousand  mauve,  violet,  and  roseate  overtones, 
and  the  vivid  green  of  the  lush  grass  into  every  dainty 
elusive  kindred  hue  known  to  the  spectrum. 

In  such  a  climate  nature,  with  the  help  of  a  stray 
beam  of  sunshine,  a  thimbleful  of  dew,  a  puff  of  breeze 
from  the  hills,  and  a  handful  of  rich,  brown  earth,  can 
distil  the  very  fragrance  of  heaven. 

Amid  this  riot  of  delicate  odor  goldfinches,  green- 
finches, blackcaps,  nightingales,  and  robin  -  redbreasts 
disport  themselves  and  shower  their  full  bright  notes 
in  tiny  rills  and  thrills  and  runs  of  exquisite  harmony 
from  the  protecting  depths  of  the  foliage,  each  little 
feathered  throat  pulsating  in  time  to  the  crystalline  mu- 
sic, like  a  live  and  extraordinarily  melodious  metronome. 
The  spell  of  spring,  and  of  that  lovely  land  he  was 
visiting  for  the  first  time,  were  upon  Archduke  Franz 
as  he  arrived  in  Radetzky's  camp.  The  melancholy  of 
departure  had  absolutely  disappeared,  and  a  great  hap- 
piness welled  up  in  his  heart. 

He  was  going  into  action !  What  magic  in  those  few 
words.  Heir  to  a  great  Empire  and  to  great  traditions 
of  honor  and  fearlessness,  to  great  duties  and  obligations 
as  well,  he  owed  it,  therefore,  to  his  ancestors  to  do  the 
very  utmost  within  his  power  in  order  to  revive  and 
maintain  the  Habsburg  honor,  of  which  he  was  the 
custodian  —  he,  the  banner-bearer  of  his  race!  The 
time  had  come,  God  be  praised!  when  he  could  unfurl 
this  banner  bravely  and  nobly  in  the  sight  of  the 
world.  That  was  his  mission,  the  work  he  was  born 
to  do,  he  thought  exultantly,  as  he  directed  his  steps 
towards  the  spot  where  he  was  to  meet  Radetzky. 

44 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

For  a  moment  he  stopped,  gazing  straight  ahead  at 
the  fair  landscape  flooded  with  brilliant  sunshine, but  see- 
ing nothing  save  his  familiar  phantasm  striding  proudly 
before  him  to  victory  and  glory.  Excepting  this  there 
was  nothing  else  in  all  created  space  for  him  that  day 
but  battling  armies,  waving  standards,  and  the  rush  of 
charging  squadrons ;  and  at  the  sound  of  the  war-trumpet 
his  soul  came  forth  from  its  hiding-place  and  shone  in 
his  eyes,  looking  fearlessly  towards  the  future. 

The  Field-Marshal  did  not  relish  the  responsibility 
placed  upon  him  by  the  arrival  of  the  Heir-Apparent  to 
go  under  fire  for  the  first  time  under  his — Radetzky's — 
orders,  and  almost  comically  did  the  face  of  the  young 
Archduke  lengthen  when  the  blunt-spoken  old  warrior 
curtly  exclaimed: 

'Your  Imperial  Highness's  presence  here  is  very  dis- 
agreeable to  me!  Should  anything  happen  to  you,  what 
will  be  said  of  me  ? — and  if  you  should  be  taken  prisoner 
all  the  advantages  that  I  might  otherwise  gain  over  the 
enemy  will,  of  course,  be  set  at  naught." 

He  spoke  peremptorily,  his  multitudinous  wrinkles 
expressive  of  extreme  displeasure,  his  bold,  unflinching 
hawk  eyes  forcing  themselves  to  forget  that  he  was  ad- 
dressing his  future  sovereign. 

The  Archduke  could  not  repress  a  nervous  and  rather 
abashed  little  laugh,  but,  with  a  slightly  breathless  and 
triumphant  enunciation,  he  replied: 

'"Herr  Feldmarschall,'  it  may  have  been  imprudent 
to  send  me  here,  but  here  I  am,  and  here  I  stay.  It  is 
my  place!"  Then,  drawing  himself  up  and  saluting 
stiffly,  he  added:  "I  have  the  honor  to  report  myself  for 
duty." 

Radetzky  hastily  turned  his  eyes — in  which  a  suspi- 
cious glisten  had  suddenly  appeared — down  the  avenue 
of  tents,  before  which  file  after  file  of  soldiers  stood  at 

45 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

attention,  for  this  brave  veteran  of  eighty-two  now  saw 
in  the  lad  of  seventeen  his  own  youth  rising  up  before 
him,  as  well  as  the  ardent  hope  of  the  Imperial  House  he 
had  served  so  long  and  loyally.  With  a  deep  inclination 
he  grasped  the  Archduke's  hand,  and  would  have  raised 
it  to  his  withered  lips,  but,  freeing  himself,  the  young 
man  threw  his  arms  about  the  bent  old  form  and  em- 
braced his  commanding  officer  as  had  he  been  his  own 
father,  while  the  palest  flicker  of  a  smile  passed  over  the 
imperturbable  face  of  the  aide-de-camp  in  attendance 
as  he  watched  the  conflicting  emotions  of  his  chief. 

Neither  the  Archduke  nor  the  Field-Marshal  spoke 
again'until,  walking  side  by  side,  they  had  reached  the 
latter's  quarters. 

Radetzky  often  declared  afterwards  that  his  had  not 
at  that  period  been  a  bed  of  roses,  for  he  had  the  un- 
precedented and  uncomfortable  honor  of  numbering 
among  his  officers  and  generals  not  only  the  Archdukes 
Albrecht  and  Wilhelm,  sons  of  the  victor  of  Aspern,  who 
had  joined  him  at  the  beginning  of  the  campaign,  but 
alas!  now  also  the  apple  of  Archduchess  Sophia's  eye — 
Archduchess  Sophia  who  was  feared  throughout  Aus- 
tria—  her  first-born,  fashioned  by  her  strong,  clever 
hands  to  occupy  the  Dual  Throne,  and  whose  death  she 
would  never  forgive. 

As  for  the  young  Archduke  himself,  he  from  the  first 
moment  took  to  active  military  life  as  a  duck  takes  to 
water,  and  the  highest-trained,  longest-inured  soldier  of 
Radetzky 's  army  did  not  endure  privation  with  more 
content  and  more  fortitude  than  he. 

On  May  6th  he  received  his  baptism  of  fire  at  Santa 
Lucia,  and  bore  himself  throughout  that  fiercely  fought 
battle  in  the  splendid  manner  so  fitly  celebrated  by  the 
lines  of  Wernhart — "Die  Feuerprobe" — of  which  I  here 
give  a  copy  for  those  who  admire  war-poetry. 

46 


H 

X 
H 

>-* 
W 

w 
o 

M 


-3 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Die  Trommel  rief  zurr.  Sturme 
Einst  bei  Sanct  Lucia, 
Da  gieng  es  an  ein  Streiten 
So  kiihn  von  beiden  Seiten 
Wie  ich  kein  zweites  sah. 

Die  Sonne  Osterreichs  rangen 
Urns  Recht  so  manche  Stund'; 
Doch  furchtbar  kam  das  Feuer 
Aus  Lucias  Gemauer, 
Wie  aus  der  Holle  Schlund. 

Da  ritt  aus  den  Schwadronen 
Ein  junger  Ofhcier, 
Er  flog  beim  Kugelregen 
Dem  Feindeshort  entgegen, 
Voll  edler  Kampfbegier. 

Als  er  an  unsern  Reihen 
Gehemmt  des  Rosses  Lauf, 
Da  rief  er  "Vorwarts  Jager! 
Seid  ihr  des  Ruhmes  Trager 
Auf  dieser  Thurme  h'nauf!" 

Das  Wort  kaum  ausgesprochen 
Hat  Wunder  schon  gethan; 
Die  Feinde  zu  bezwingen, 
Gieng's  wie  auf  Adlerschwingen 
Den  steilen  Berg  hinan. 

Der  schmucke  Reiter  wusste, 
Dass  Muth  nur  gilt  im  Krieg, 
Bestand  im  Kampfgetobe 
Mit  uns  die  Feuerprobe, 
Und  unser  war  der  Sieg. 

Kennt  ihr  den  Heldenjungling, 
Der  kiihn  voran  uns  flog? 
Franz- Josef  war's,  der  Kaiser, 
Der  sich  sehon  Lorbeerreiser 
Gepfluckt  als  Erzherzog. 

It  would  take  a  cleverer  pen  than  mine  to  adequately 
describe  the  look  of  absolute  anguish  which  so  many 

47 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

noticed   on   Radetzky's  face  on   that  memorable  day, 
when  he  saw  Archduke  Franz  quietly  check  his  charger 
in  the  thickest  of  a  storm  of  bullets,  and  without  so  much 
as  a  flicker  of  the  eyelids  remain  watching  intently  the 
progress  of  the  enemy.     Nor  had  the  natural  excitement 
of  the  moment,  the  bracing  smell  of  powder,  the  swish- 
ing sound  of  the  wind-tossed  flags  anything  to  do  with 
the  martial  attitude  of  this  neophyte,  for  he  was  indeed 
a  born  soldier.     He  gently  waved  away  Feldmarschall- 
Lieutenant  Baron  d'Aspre,  who  was  imploring  him  to 
take  shelter,  conjuring  him  to  remember  the  extreme 
value  of  his  life,  and  whose  ferocious  glares  and  gestures 
of  impotent  exasperation  and  despair  were  received  by 
the  object  of  all  this  undesired  solicitude  with  a  disarm- 
ingly  winning  smile,  as,  settling  himself  squarely  in  his 
saddle,  the  amused  Archduke  replied,  slowly,  softly,  but 
with  complete  and  inexorable  obstinacy:  "I  won't  go!" 
This  day  of  initiation  was,  perchance,  the  longest,  the 
most  agitating,  the  most  elating,  and  the  most  unfor- 
gettable the  young  Archduke  had  ever  spent.     Expect- 
ant of  the  end,  as  one  who  toils  upward  towards  some 
towering  hidden   summit   of  dazzling  magnificence,  he 
lost  the  sense  of  time,  of  fatigue,  of  hunger,  of  thirst, 
every  sense,  in  fact,  but  that  of  a  strange  joy,  almost 
fierce  in  its  intensity.     For  hour  after  hour  there  was 
no  relaxation  of  muscles,  no  throwing  off  of  tension, 
the  lids  never  drooped  over  the  intently  gazing  eyes,  the 
firm  lips  scarcely  parted;  the  whole  energetic  young 
figure   was  alert   with   passionate  vitality,  with   fasci- 
nated enthusiasm. 

He  never  forgot,  at  any  rate,  the  sunset  of  that  day, 
of  which  he  still  loves  to  talk,  the  dull  blue  of  thunder- 
clouds that  brooded  in  the  west,  the  sky  of  purple  and 
gold,  the  warmth  and  soft  transparency  of  living  color 
amid  which  the  fiery  sphere  went  down  in  indescribable 

48 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

majesty,  seen  through  the  ruddy  veil  of  smoke  drifting 
from  the  battle  -  field — an  orgy  of  sky  and  cloud  tints 
frontiered  by  the  darkness  of  threatening  vapors,  which 
formed,  had  he  but  known  it,  so  fitting  an  emblem  of 
his  future. 

Prudence  had  been  at  no  time  among  his  prominent 
characteristics,  and  this  glorious  defence  of  the  Austri- 
ans,  this  lucky  throw  of  Radetzky's  last  card,  was  not 
calculated  to  teach  caution  to  a  young  man  normally 
deficient  in  it.  The  latent  instinct  in  him  —  the  instinct 
that  had  flashed  out  in  days  of  keen  sport  on  the  dan- 
gerous summits  of  the  Tyrolese  Alps — was  that  of  abso- 
lute, unconscious  courage,  and  he  found  something  of 
himself,  a  familiarity  as  of  previous  experience,  in  the 
heat  of  battle,  the  rush  of  the  charge,  and  the  reckless 
deviltry  of  clashing  regiments. 

Tears  of  pride  stood  in  his  eyes  as  he  saw  a  handful 
of  men — twelve  companies — fighting  successfully  against 
five  entire  brigades,  an  almost  unheard-of,  almost  unsur- 
passed feat  of  arms.  These  men  were  the  flower  of  Ra- 
detzky's army,  and  they  moved  with  the  ferocity  of 
tigers,  with  wondrous  celerity,  hurling  themselves  upon 
the  Piedmontese,  their  hands  gripped  hard  upon  their 
weapons,  their  white  coats  stained  with  dust  and  blood, 
until  Austrian  and  Italian  were  blended  in  one  inextri- 
cable mass. 

The  Austrian  cavalry,  hemmed  in  between  infantry 
and  artillery,  for  a  long  time  was  unable  to  charge,  every 
man  keeping  his  life  by  a  ceaseless  hand-to-hand  sword- 
play,  beautiful  to  behold,  but  nevertheless  bitter,  stifling, 
cruel  work,  during  which  many  a  saddle  was  emptied, 
many  lives  crushed  out  under  the  stamping  hoofs  of  the 
maddened  horses.  But  at  last  the  moment  long  looked 
for,  long  desired,  arrived,  and  with  lightning  rapidity 
Archduke  Franz  seized  it.  Spurring  his  horse  against 
4  49 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  wall  of  swarthy,  savage  Italian  faces,  and  waving  his 
sword  above  his  head,  the  young  colonel  literally  threw 
his  dragoons  upon  their  now  swaying  and  yielding  ranks. 
The  men  rushed  forward  in  a  superb  effort,  like  arrows 
launched  from  a  thousand  powerful  bows.  The  impetu- 
osity of  their  charge  was  irresistible,  and  bore  King  Al- 
bert's troops  headlong  before  it.  Men  fell  on  every  side, 
to  be  ground  into  pulp  upon  the  blood-soaked  ground. 
Above  the  hellish  din,  the  tumult  and  the  shouting,  the 
wild  neighing  of  chargers,  and  the  roar  of  musketry  and 
of  cannon,  rang  out  a  succession  of  coolly  given  orders 
from  the  ever-changing  spot  where,  with  the  reek  of 
smoke  and*  of  carnage  around  him,  rode  Archduke  Franz, 
a  slim,  inspiring  figure  on  his  rearing,  fretting,  curvet- 
ting charger,  as  he  forced  his  way  through  a  storm  of 
blows  and  a  hurricane  of  projectiles,  leading  the  sweep 
of  his  squadrons  over  the  lifeless  forms  of  the  fallen. 

When  at  length  this  superb  feat  of  arms  was  over, 
the  soldiers  crowded  shouting  about  him.  They  had 
had  enough  of  monarchs  who  sat  sedately  at  home  and 
looked  upon  a  throne  as  the  most  comfortable  of  rest- 
ing-places; a  man  of  action  was  what  they  desired,  and 
here,  indeed,  was  a  slender,  blue-eyed  Prince,  their  fut- 
ure Emperor  and  Generalissimo,  who  had  been  tried  and 
not  found  wanting!  Therefore,  with  enthusiasm  raised 
to  boiling-point,  as  much  by  the  modesty  of  his  bearing 
as  by  what  he  had  done,  they  rent  the  air  with  cries  of 
"Hock!"  they  kissed  his  hands,  his  clothing,  his  very 
boots,  and,  had  he  permitted  it,  would  have  carried  him 
in  triumph  upon  their  shoulders  amid  frenzied  hurrahs. 

As  he  came  face  to  face  with  Radetzky,  the  grave, 
noble-looking  old  man  doffed  his  plumed  hat  and  bent 
to  his  saddle-bow. 

"God  grant,"  he  said,  in  a  strangely  unsteady  voice, 
"that  our  soldiers  may  emulate  Your  Imperial  Highness 

5° 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

wherever  our  colors  are  displayed.  God  bless  Your  Im- 
perial Highness!" 

"I  did  nothing,"  replied  the  Archduke,  quietly.  "Any 
of  your  officers  would  do  what  I  have  done."  And  then, 
pointing  with  his  naked  sword  towards  the  battle-field, 
"It  is  with  to-day's  dead  that  glory  lies!" 

Once  again  wild,  frantic,  tumultuous  cheers  sounded 
like  the  call  of  trumpets,  sending  his  name  through  the 
heavy,  powder -laden  air.  He  was  their  predestined 
leader,  and  every  heart  beat  with  the  joy  of  having 
found  him ;  nor  would  one  man  of  that  crowding  soldiery 
have  hesitated  to  follow  him  into  the  very  jaws  of  death 
had  he  but  said  the  word. 

A  great  courage,  a  cool  head,  and  a  quick  decision  are 
the  chief  qualities  of  an  officer,  but  to  those  qualities 
Archduke  Franz  added  one  which,  if  it  is  not  so  essen- 
tial, is,  at  all  events,  most  rare  and  endearing — a  kind- 
ness of  heart,  which  in  truth  knew  no  bounds,  an  infinite 
compassion  for  those  who  had  suffered  the  mischances 
of  war,  and  though  he  had  been  many  hours  in  the  sad- 
dle, and  had  tasted  no  food  since  dawn,  he  now  turned 
unhesitatingly  towards  the  wounded  and  dying  that 
strewed  the  ground. 

The  sights  which  met  his  eye  were  assuredly  awful 
enough  to  make  a  far  more  hardened  soldier  quail;  but 
though  at  times  he  could  hardly  keep  back  the  tears 
from  his  eyes,  he  labored  like  any  surgeon  amid  that 
scene  of  suffering  and  misery,  without  shrinking  from 
those  who  writhed  in  their  agony,  or  from  the  distorted 
corpses,  with  mutilated  limbs,  scattered  singly  or  hud- 
dled together  as  they  had  fallen,  in  ghastly  mounds  of 
horrible  entanglement,  under  the  rising  moon. 

Tenderly,  fearlessly  he  continued  his  self-imposed  task, 
seeking  for  lingering  life  among  both  friend  and  foe,  and 
saving  it,  too,  in  many  cases,  with  a  curious,  untaught 

51 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

surgical  skill,  until,  at  length,  when  the  night  was  far  ad- 
vanced, utterly  exhausted,  he  consented  to  eat  and  rest, 
and  rolling  himself  in  his  long  cavalry  coat  sank  into  a 
half-lethargic  slumber  under  the  calm  stars  shining  with 
undisturbed  lustre  in  the  deep  violet  sky  far,  far  above 
his  head. 

At  home,  meanwhile,  the  lonely  mother,  although 
none  of  those  about  her  would  have  believed  it,  thought 
night  and  day,  with  increasing  agony,  of  the  naked  hor- 
rors of  war.  To  her  war  was  not  a  great  pageant  dressed 
in  the  splendid  array  of  romance — the  presence  of  a  be- 
loved life  at  the  front  is  not  conducive  to  such  illusions — 
but  a  grewsome  tragedy,  a  bitter,  deadly  truth,  made 
only  more  terrible  by  the  glitter  of  accoutrements,  the 
polish  of  costly  weapons,  the  snowy  whiteness  of  tents 
over  which  droop  the  silken  folds  of  gold-embroidered 
flags,  all  that  pomp  which  but  emphasizes  hunger,  cold, 
heat,  racking  physical  pain,  thirst,  travail,  and  torture, 
except  for  the  novelist  or  the  poet  looking  on  from  afar, 
and  whose  perspective  is  so  often  faulty. 

No  one  ever  heard  the  Archduchess  sigh,  or  saw  tears 
in  her  deep-set  eyes,  and  she  never  in  any  way  alluded  to 
her  torturing  anxiety,  not  even  under  the  seal  of  con- 
fession. Its  pain  was  buried  in  her  own  breast,  and  none 
guessed  its  depth .  Her  expression  had  always  been  grave, 
her  beauty  of  a  severe  type,  her  moods  silent ;  therefore 
her  present  frozen  calm  successfully  covered  and  con- 
cealed the  fire  burning  within.  Her  only  consolation 
was  her  stern  conception  of  the  demands  of  honor,  and 
to  these  she  forced  herself  to  yield  obedience,  instead 
of  to  those  tyrannically  haunting  impulses  which  bade 
her  recall  her  boy,  for  the  time  was  not  yet. 

A  letter  written  privately  to  her  by  Radetzky ,  however, 
and  which  she  mentioned  to  none,  made  her  reconsider 
this  verdict  with  passionate  alacrity.     Archduke  Franz 

52 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

was  doing  far  more  than  honor  demanded,  far,  far  more 
than  even  she  had  expected  of  him.  This  being  so,  she 
decided  to  bring  him  back,  but  without  laying  bare  her 
shameful  fears,  without  sacrificing  her  self-respect  and 
dignity,  for  superficially  she  had  been  throughout  so  in- 
flexibly unemotional  that  she  could  not  thus  at  the  last 
openly  acknowledge  her  weakness. 

That  very  day  she  sought  her  brother-in-law,  whose 
Imperial  will  was,  alas!  but  as  spun  glass  in  her  hands, 
and  who  greatly  feared  her.  He  was  conscious  that  her 
intelligence  was  far  keener  than  his  own,  that  she  was 
never  vague  or  uncertain  as  to  any  course  of  action,  that 
it  was  impossible  to  hoodwink  her;  and  instinctively 
realized,  although  her  wire  -  pulling  was  almost  always 
too  subtle  for  his  dull  vision,  that  he  was  only  a  mere 
puppet,  everlastingly  dancing  to  her  imperious  pip- 
ing and  eternally  obeying  her  viewless  directions.  He 
dreaded  her  silences,  generally  pregnant  with  storm, 
and  yet  more  her  closely  reasoned,  ironical  speeches, 
which  invariably  rose  in  the  peroration  to  a  caustic, 
withering,  exquisitely  rounded  eloquence  of  polite  in- 
vective. He  felt  keenly  her  contempt  for  his  compla- 
cent narrowness  of  mind,  his  boundless  egotism,  his 
small,  contracted  views,  begotten  of  formula,  his  singu- 
larly conventional  religiosity,  which  clipped  and  trimmed 
everything  to  suit  his  own  wishes,  and  especially  his 
weak,  ailing  body,  already  at  fifty-five  that  of  an  old 
man,  and  his  yet  weaker  mentality. 

Emperor  Ferdinand  had  inherited  from  his  father, 
Emperor  Francis,  a  veneration  for  rectitude,  but  nature 
had  not  endowed  him  with  his  father's  capacity  to  un- 
dergo bodily  and  mental  exertions  for  the  welfare  of  his 
people,  and  the  latter  seldom  understood  him. 

The  art  of  pleasing  is  more  based  on  that  of  seeming 
pleased  than  is  generally  known,  and  the  sickly,  fretful 

53 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

man  who  occupied  the  throne  gave  the  continual  im- 
pression that  he  lamented  his  unhappy  lot  in  season  and 
out  of  season.  In  this  case,  also,  the  old  proverb  which 
says,  "  Be  honey  and  the  flies  will  eat  you,"  was  glaringly 
exemplified.  He  was  too  meek,  too  easily  cozened  and 
led  with  delicate  flattery,  and  especially  too  anxious  to 
conciliate  both  the  cabbage  and  the  goat  to  ever  cope 
successfully  with  the  fearful  problems  he  had  been  set 
to  solve. 

Another  saying — one  of  wise  old  Talleyrand's — Fer- 
dinand unfortunately  never  remembered , ' '  Live  with  your 
friends,  but  remember  that  one  day  they  will  be  your 
enemies,"  and  this  neglect  ended  by  costing  him  dear. 

Assuredly  his  life  as  a  monarch  was  not  a  happy  one. 
The  long,  weary  days  unrolled  themselves  drearily  be- 
fore him,  beginning  in  the  morning  with  altercation  and 
strife,  continuing  with  cares  and  fatigues,  ending  often 
in  rough  dispute,  and  knowing  peace  of  a  sort  only  dur- 
ing the  rare  absences  of  Archduchess  Sophia;  but,  of 
course,  a  man  more  energetic  than  himself  could  easily 
have  alleviated,  if  not  entirely  obliterated,  all  these 
troubles. 

On  a  delicious  morning  in  early  May,  when  thousands 
of  song-birds  filled  the  grand  old  trees  of  Schonbrunn 
with  melody,  or  played  hide-and-seek  in  the  tall,  feath- 
ery weeds  and  purple  iris  along  the  margins  of  the  foun- 
tains, when  the  deer  bounded  through  the  grassy,  beech- 
studded  slopes  of  the  park,  trampling  violets,  primroses, 
and  stars  of  Bethlehem  under  their  scurrying  hoofs, 
Archduchess  Sophia  joined  the  Emperor  in  the  "Glori- 
ette,"  where  he  was  delightedly  inhaling  the  soft,  fra- 
grant breezes. 

At  her  approach  a  heavy  gloom  overcast  his  wrinkled 
countenance,  and  he  rose  to  greet  her  with  an  almost 
childish  pettishness. 

54 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

The  Archduchess  inclined  her  proud  head  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  his  curt  bow,  and,  seating  herself  upon  a 
marble  bench,  let  her  eyes  dwell  earnestly  upon  the  sun- 
lit landscape,  as  if  to  do  so  were  her  only  object  in  life. 

"A  beautiful  morning,"  said  the  Emperor,  nervously, 
with  an  involuntary  twitching  of  the  lips  which  he 
never  could  restrain  when  speaking  to  her. 

"Beautiful!"  assented  the  Archduchess,  and  then  re- 
lapsed into  cool  silence. 

The  aide-de-camp,  standing  behind  his  sovereign,  said, 
later,  to  a  friend,  that  the  wretched  old  man  looked  to 
him  at  that  moment  like  a  bird  trembling  at  the  near 
approach  of  a  snake. 

"We  may  have  a  storm  later  on,"  continued  the  mon- 
arch, with  a  desperate  attempt  at  conversational  ease 
and  an  embarrassed  nod  of  his  senile  head  in  the  direc- 
tion of  what  is  called,  in  Austria,  "die  Wetter  Seite" 
(the  weather  side). 

The  Archduchess  deigned  to  lower  her  gaze  to  the  level 
of  her  brother-in-law's  cringing  form.  He  had  suddenly 
assumed  a  look  of  age,  and  appeared  like  one  double  his 
years.  As  her  glance  met  his,  he  started,  and  dropped 
his  gold  -  headed  cane  with  a  clatter  upon  the  marble 
pavement.  The  aide-de-camp  rushed  forward,  picked 
it  up,  handed  it  respectfully  to  the  Emperor,  and  re- 
tired precipitately  into  the  background,  as  if  glad  to 
avoid  the  storm-centre.  Poor  Ferdinand  would  have 
greatly  liked  to  do  the  same,  but  perforce  remained 
where  an  unkind  fate  had  sent  him,  balancing  the  cane 
delicately  in  his  thin,  blue-veined  hand,  and  studying 
its  turquoise-paved  head  with  every  appearance  of  great 
and  absorbing  interest. 

"Don't  make  yourself  uneasy,"  said  his  tormentor,  in 
the  gentlest  of  voices,  "the  stones  are  quite  uninjured!" 

The  Emperor  hastily  turned  away,  and,  looking  across 

55 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  shaded,  dark -green  turf,  dappled  with  wavering 
spots  of  rippling  sun-gold,  tried  to  collect  himself. 

The  breath  of  that  peerless  morning  was  like  a  power- 
ful extract  of  fragrant  blossoms  fresh  from  the  hand  of  a 
heavenly  parjumeur,  and  he  was  strangely  conscious  of 
its  charm  despite  the  fear  tugging  at  his  heart,  that 
pitiful  anguish  which  should,  in  the  nature  of  things,  fall 
only  to  the  lot  of  extreme  old  age,  when  the  soul  nears 
its  flight  and  feels  its  inability  to  struggle  with  the  diffi- 
culties and  trials  of  life.  There  came  over  him  a  pas- 
sionate longing  for  peace  and  rest,  for  cessation  of  noise 
and  worry,  for  escape  from  this  apprehension  of  coming 
evil,  this'dread  that,  like  Merlin's,  even  now  shook  him 
as  had  he  been  touched  by  a  chill  wind,  although  it  was 
spring-time  and  the  glorious  day  drowsed  warmly  on  in 
soft  fire  and  lovely  coloring,  under  his  weary,  anxious 
eyes. 

Well  did  he  know  what  she  had  come  to  upbraid  him 
about,  well  did  he  realize  what  sins  of  omission  she  laid 
at  his  door,  and  greatly  did  he  inwardly  revolt  at  her 
unsparing  criticism  and  oft-repeated  "I  told  you  so." 
He,  with  the  Habsburg  Family  and  Court,  had  done  little 
else  but  scoff  at  the  mere  idea  of  a  successful  revolution  in 
Austria.  Even  now  it  scarcely  occurred  to  any  one  that 
the  throne  was  standing  in  imminent  peril  and  that  at 
any  moment  the  bulwarks  of  imperialism  might  burst 
asunder  and  the  tide  of  anarchy  rush  into  its  magic  cir- 
cle, scattering  destruction  and  death  all  around.  The 
mass  of  the  people  were  at  the  outset  opposed  to  all 
advanced  ideas,  their  superb  loyalty  to  the  reigning  dy- 
nasty was  regarded  as  absolutely  unshakable,  and  when, 
in  the  previous  month  of  March,  devastating  waves 
began  to  lap  at  the  foundations  of  a  hitherto  inviolate 
authority,  the  phenomenon  was  beheld  with  astonish- 
ment, and  received  with  gay  ridicule,  not  only  by  the 

56 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

nobility,  but  by  pretty  much  everybody  else  as  well, 
always  excepting  the  sharp-sighted  Archduchess  Sophia. 

Her  continual  mefiez  vous  was  unfortunately  disregard- 
ed, for  though  the  seeds  sown  by  agitators  and  malcon- 
tents fell  upon  a  soil  not  yet  sufficiently  prepared  to  in- 
sure a  quick  fruition,  the  efforts  of  the  noisy  and  fanatical 
minority  had  at  length  produced  a  very  noticeable  crop. 

The  reforms  instituted  by  Emperor  Joseph,  half  a  cen- 
tury before,  had  their  share  in  precipitating  the  catas- 
trophe, for,  although  they  had  doubtless  alleviated  many 
of  the  people's  miseries  at  the  time,  they  had  not  reck- 
oned with  the  spirit  of  discontent,  which,  in  these  our 
beautifully  enlightened  days,  was  bound  to  arise  from 
measures  which  practically  extended  yet  more  the  power 
of  the  Crown. 

Poor  Emperor  Joseph!  His  self- written  epitaph  was 
indeed  a  true  one:  "A  Prince  whose  intentions  were 
pure,  yet  who  had  the  misfortune  to  see  all  his  plans 
miscarry." 

The  time  was  now  ripe  for  the  fruition  of  just  such 
miscarried,  misdirected  reforms.  Metternich,  the  great 
chancellor,  the  omnipotent  arbiter  of  two  reigns,  after 
trying  his  best  to  control  the  upheaval,  had  failed  ig- 
nominiously,  and  since  a  fortnight  had  been  a  fugitive  in 
England.  The  right  to  carry  arms  had  been  granted  to 
the  ignorant  multitude,  liberty  of  the  press  gave  oppor- 
tunity and  audience  to  every  scheming  or  crack-brained 
agitator,  and  finally,  on  the  26th  of  April,  a  constitution 
had  been  accorded  to  a  people  unused  to  and  unfitted  for 
popular  government.  Indeed,  none  save  a  monarch  of 
almost  unparalleled  strength  and  sagacity  could  have 
averted  the  misfortunes  that  were  now  to  overtake  the 
country  in  this  sad  year  of  1848. 

With  war  beyond  her  borders,  and  revolution  within 
them,  Austria  was,  indeed,  in  a  sorry  plight;  but  during 

57 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  silence  that  fell  between  the  Emperor  and  his  sister- 
in-law,  on  that  exquisite  May  morning,  he  thought  of 
nothing  but  his  own  grievances,  and  the  cruel  injustice 
of  Providence  towards  himself  in  giving  him  a  mentor 
who  loomed  unceasingly  in  his  immediate  neighborhood, 
like  a  tempest-cloud  that  darkens  the  sky  with  a  menace 
sure  to  be  fulfilled. 

In  the  cool  assumption  of  right  as  a  matter  of  course, 
there  lies  an  irresistible  power.  This  was  one  of  Arch- 
duchess Sophia's  greatest  weapons,  especially  when  deal- 
ing with  her  weak  and  easily  cowed  brother-in-law.  She 
never  gave  him  the  slightest  chance  of  doubting  her 
perfect  tftle  to  dictate  to  him  with  superb  insolence,  for 
even  in  her  worst  wrath  she  was  ever  self-controlled, 
shrewd,  and  wise.  He  was  paying  dearly,  indeed,  for 
that  most  unpardonable  and  terrible  of  follies — irreso- 
lution. 

At  last  she  spoke: 

"Do  you  believe  in  spectres,  Ferdinand?"  Her  voice 
was  calm  and  indifferent  as  usual,  and  yet  he  fancied 
that  he  could  catch  the  echo  of  some  hidden  irony  in 
the  low,  level  tones. 

"In  spectres?  What  spectres?"  he  asked,  uneasily, 
instantly  on  the  defensive. 

In  the  distance  the  fresh  young  voice  of  little  Arch- 
duke Ludwig-Victor's  French  nurse  rang  out  suddenlv 
under  the  trees: 

"  On  a  mis  la  graine  en  terre, 
Saute  done  la  brune  au  son  du  fluteau!" 

"Spectres  of  your  own  making,  for  instance,"  the 
Archduchess  replied,  with  a  sneer,  faint  but  unmistak- 
able, which  revealed  her  meaning  completely. 

"En  terre  pres  du  ruisseau 
Au  son  de  la  flute,  au  son  du  fluteau," 

5* 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

came  the  gay,  lilting  melody,  answered   by   a  childish 
pipe,  repeating,  joyfully: 

"  Au  son  du  fluteau!  au  son  du  fluteau!" 

The  Emperor  stirred  nervously.  Then  a  sudden  cour- 
age seized  him  to  probe  to  the  depth  of  her  meaning  and 
discover  if  he  could  not  for  once  silence  those  cruel  lips 
and  force  those  calm,  scornful  eyes  to  droop  before  a 
master.  Perchance  he  had  made  a  succession  of  false 
moves.  Perhaps  instead  of  retreating  he  ought  to  have 
attacked.  So  he  now  assumed  a  sterner  manner,  and 
said,  with  what  decision  he  could  command: 

"I  wish,  Sophia,  that  if  you  have  anything  to  say  to 
me  you  would  do  so  in  plain  language,  instead  of  adopt- 
ing that  of  metaphor.  I  do  really,"  he  concluded,  al- 
most recklessly. 

" Do  you?"  she  murmured.  There  was  a  note  of  gen- 
uine surprise  in  her  voice,  and  she  regarded  him  curious- 
ly, as  though  she  had  discovered  something  new,  puz- 
zling, and  quite  amazingly  ridiculous  about  him. 

He  struggled  against  the  influence  of  her  eyes,  his  dry 
fingers  grasping  the  handle  of  his  gorgeous  cane  with 
unconscious  force  as  he  leaned  forward,  resting  an  elbow 
on  his  crossed  knees,  and  forced  himself  to  look  her  un- 
swervingly in  the  face,  but  already  his  resolution  was 
ebbing  away. 

'You  and  I  could  surely  understand  each  other, 
Sophia,  if  only  you  would  be  less  inclined  to  think  that  I 
wish  to  thwart  you,  for,  on  the  contrary,  I  am  only  too 
happy  when  I  can  meet  your  wishes.  Tell  me  what  it  is 
that  you  desire?" 

A  bowl  of  milk  to  a  cobra  is  the  better  part  of  valor,  for 
it  enables  one  to  retreat  unmolested;  but  Ferdinand's 
abrupt  change  of  manner,  his  sudden  swerve,  and  his 
attempt  at  charming,  instead  of  risking  a  bite,  was  not 

59 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

lost  upon  so  clever  a  woman  as  his  antagonist.  Her  ex- 
pression altered  from  dreamy  sarcasm  and  half-curiosity 
to  extreme  alertness,  and  there  was  a  sharp,  belligerent 
vitality  in  her  whole  attitude  as  she  turned  towards  him, 
so  quickly  that  he  almost  dropped  his  cane  again.  She 
stared  hard  at  him,  her  face  set,  her  chin  a  little  forward, 
the  whole  woman  a  gaze  of  extreme  power. 

"How  very  curious,"  she  said,  at  last,  "that  a  man 
born  on  the  steps  of  a  throne,  born  to  be  a  ruler  of  men, 
should  be  so  readily  influenced  by  his  likes  and  dislikes! 
Neither  should  ever  interfere  with  prudence,  Ferdinand, 
and  you  are,  I  assure  you,  singularly  rash  when  you 
try  to  propitiate  me"— the  pronoun  was  superbly  em- 
phasized— "in  such  a  paltry  fashion.  You  might  just 
as  well  attempt  to  appease  a  whirlwind  by  means  of  a 
nice  little  green-enamelled  watering-pot." 

"My  dear  Sophia!"  pleaded  her  victim,  looking  dis- 
tressedly  round  for  his  aide-de-camp,  who,  however,  had 
long  since  retreated  from  view,  although  duty  compelled 
him,  until  formally  dismissed,  to  remain  within  earshot. 
But  the  Archduchess  cared  little  for  the  piteous  misery 
so  evidently  overwhelming  her  Imperial  relative.  It 
was  clearly  her  place  to  frighten  him  into  acceding  to 
what  she  considered  necessary  for  the  welfare  of  the 
Crown,  so  she  laughed  a  little,  satisfied  laugh,  and,  cross- 
ing her  slender  hands  upon  her  lap,  mercilessly  resumed: 

"In  comparing  myself  to  a  whirlwind,  I  am  not,  I  as- 
sure you,  underrating  my  humble  personality.  A  whirl- 
wind is  a  very  wholesome  thing — it  sweeps  pestilence 
away  and  drives  contagion  before  it." 

Ferdinand  instantly  abjured  any  lingering  remnants 
of  an  intention  to  face  the  music.  "I  am  shocked  at 
you,  Sophia,"  he  said,  coaxingly,  and  with  a  sickly  smile. 
"What  is  the  use  of  railing  at  yourself  in  this  fashion?" 

Archduchess  Sophia  laughed  again  her  exasperating 

60 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

little  laugh,  as  if  her  only  object  was  to  see  him  writhe. 
She  was  feeling  her  way.  Her  object  clearly  in  view,  it 
was  only  a  question  which  of  her  many  weapons  to  use ; 
meanwhile  a  little  judiciously  applied  touch  of  the  whip 
would  open  the  way  for  useful  attacks  of  every  de- 
scription. So  she  studied  him  with  searching  eyes, 
which  he,  as  usual,  avoided,  looking  intently  at  a  deli- 
cate pearly  cloud  travelling  across  the  radiant  sky  like 
a  graceful  swan  upon  a  lake  of  azure. 

He  would  have  sincerely  preferred  an  encounter  with 
a  virago  from  the  slums,  flying  at  him  with  oaths  and 
curses,  or  tearing  him  bodily  like  a  wild  cat,  to  this 
fencing  and  parrying  with  a  polished,  shrewd,  absolute- 
ly relentless  adversary,  who  took  advantage  of  every 
weakness,  and  knew  where  to  find  every  defect  in  his 
thin,  ill-fitting  armor.  More  than  ever  before  he  felt  like 
a  man  upon  whose  breast  crouches  some  beautiful,  fierce 
animal,  some  exquisitely  graceful,  velvety  leopard  or 
jaguar,  from  the  clutches  of  which,  struggle  as  he  will, 
there  is  no  escape.  But  a  sullen,  desperate  anger  be- 
gan to  rise  in  his  breast,  against  life,  against  fate,  and 
especially  against  her.  His  hands  suddenly  closed  on 
his  ill-fated  cane  so  that  the  knuckles  whitened  with  the 
grip. 

Archduchess  Sophia,  with  the  swift  delicacy  of  per- 
ception that  made  her  so  dangerous  an  enemy,  divined 
something  of  his  feelings,  and  concluded  it  would  be 
unwise  to  push  her  pusillanimous  antagonist  too  far. 
The  worm  might  turn,  and  then,  what?  So,  with  even 
more  than  her  accustomed  suppleness,  she  assumed  a 
tone  of  honest  bluntness: 

"When  I  spoke  just  now  of  spectres,  my  dear  Ferdi- 
nand, I  meant  simply  that  ours  is  an  age  of  cowardice, 
that  chivalry  is  out  of  place  in  it,  and  that  we,  who  once 
could  consider  ourselves  as  the  masters  of  the  universe, 

61 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

are  now  haunted  day  and  night  by  all  the  grim  phan- 
toms of  revolution  and  civil  war.  In  saying  'we,'  I  of 
course  allude  to  our  order,  but  especially  to  yourself, 
for  whom  revolution  is  no  longer  a  spectre,  but  a  stern, 
ghastly  reality,  with  which  you  must  count  and  against 
which  you  must  fight.  As  racing-men  say,  you  are  not 
having  a  very  'rosy  time'  of  it  just  now!" 

The  tragic  expression  of  fear  and  exasperation  upon 
Ferdinand's  face  gave  way  to  a  bitterly  humorous  smile. 
"No,"  he  acquiesced,  in  an  undertone,  with  a  sidelong 
glance  at  her  through  half-closed  lids,  "I  am  not  having 
a  very  'rosy  time'  of  it,  as  you  are  pleased  to  put  it." 

"Natufally,  for  apart  from  anything  else  you  are 
garroted  by  the  collar  of  your  own  conscience,  or,  if  you 
are  not,  you  should  be!"  The  opportunity  for  the  thrust 
had  been  too  tempting.  Her  conciliatory  intentions 
were  for  the  moment  quite  forgotten,  and  she  tapped  the 
marble  pavement  impatiently  with  her  narrow,  admi- 
rably shod  foot.  He  shrank  from  the  incisive  sentence, 
then  quickly  leaned  forward.     The  tension  snapped! 

"My  possible  ruin  seems  to  amuse  you.  Truly,  the 
joy  of  disparagement  never  dies!"  His  voice  was  rough 
and  uncontrolled,  and  he  clinched  his  hands  yet  more 
convulsively  together.  "You  think  I  can  no  longer  gov- 
ern! You  dare  to  hint — oh,  God!  no,  you  actually  say 
that  my  soul,  my  body,  my  honor  are  worthless,  worn 
out,  that  I  am  but  the  parody  of  a  king,  an  apology  for  a 
man!  During  all  the  years  I  have  sat  on  the  throne, 
your  derision,  your  ridicule  have  made  me  wince  and 
smart  at  every  turn.  You  are  eternally  unsatisfied,  you 
censure  everybody,  you  would  walk  through  blood  to 
the  neck  to  attain  your  desire.  What  are  you?  What 
are  you?  What  do  you  want  of  me?  Tell  me  now,  at 
once,  this  moment,  and  I  will  give  it  to  you  so  as  to  gain 
peace  once  for  all!" 

62 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

His  tone,  at  the  outset  almost  one  of  fierce  invective, 
progressively  weakened  to  a  sort  of  desperate  queru- 
lousness,  and  the  last  words  finished  in  a  stifled  wail. 
He  had  become  passionately  excited,  his  eyes  were  those 
of  a  madman.  Archduchess  Sophia  still  sat  quietly 
watching  him  with  an  expression  of  undisguised  sur- 
prise and  interest.  She  seemed  about  to  reply,  when 
suddenly,  as  if  impelled  by  an  external  force,  he  sprang 
to  his  feet  with  an  oath: 

'What  is  it  that  you  do  want?"  he  cried,  furiously. 
"My  crown  to  put  on  the  curly  pate  of  your  son?  Do 
you  think  you  can  get  it?  By  God!  you'll  never  get  it 
while  I  live!  I'll  show  you  yet  in  whose  hands  the 
power  lies  —  power,  the  only  thing  you  love,  the  only 
thing  that  touches  and  moves  you !  What  else  do  you 
care  for?  You  have  but  contempt  for  all  humanity, 
your  husband,  your  children — except  Franz,  who  is  to 
be  the  instrument  of  your  insane  ambition — your  whole 
family,  the  Empress  —  myself.  Ah,  especially  myself! 
Do  you  think  I  will  always  be  your  tool?  I  have  been — 
a  weak  fool  for  you  to  sacrifice  at  your  pleasure,  to  crush 
under  the  wheel  of  your  triumphal  car — but  I'll  show 
you  now  even  at  this  late  hour  how  little  I  care  for  your 
plots  and  counter -plots,  for  your — "  Gasping  for 
breath,  inarticulate  with  rage,  he  stretched  out  his  hands 
towards  her,  as  if  to  seize  her  or  hurl  her  from  him. 

Archduchess  Sophia  rose  also.  She  was  as  calm  as 
ever,  although  this  was  apparently  but  the  calm  before 
the  storm;  for  her  eyes  looked  as  if  she  longed  to  do 
some  act  of  violence  for  which  great  physical  force  would 
be  necessary,  and  yet  beneath  her  icy  armor  ran  a  cold 
undercurrent  of  fear.  This  scene  was  something  en- 
tirely new.  After  all  he  was  a  king,  with  the  powers  of 
his  great  office  ready  to  his  hand,  though  the  hand  was 
such  a  feeble  and  unsteady  one.     Now  that,  in  the  ex- 

63 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

tremity  of  his  anger,  he  had  momentarily  forgotten  his 
overwhelming  dread  of  her,  he  found  a  certain  dignity, 
despite  his  undignified  language;  he  stood  erect  at  his 
full  height,  and  looked  more  the  monarch  than  she  had 
ever  seen  him.  Had  she  gone  too  far?  had  she  ruined 
all?  would  this  miserable  man  actually  assert  himself 
after  all,  overrule  her,  thwart  the  plans  she  had  laid, 
and  drag  Austria  down  with  him  to  destruction?  Had 
she  really  wrung  the  galled  withers  once  too  often  ? 

Her  breath  failed  her,  she  shuddered  at  the  vision  that 
flashed  before  her  eyes;  for  just  a  moment,  one  short, 
fleeting  moment,  she  was  daunted,  had  he  but  known  it. 
She  bent>her  head  and  set  her  teeth  hard. 

If  Ferdinand  had  read  her  aright,  if  he  had  seized  this 
golden  opportunity,  if  he  had  had  a  little  tenacity  of 
purpose — but  it  was  not  to  be,  and  it  is  well  for  the 
future  of  a  great  country  that,  exhausted  and  terrified 
by  his  own  unexampled  violence,  he  did  not  rise  to  the 
occasion.  Sinking  back  into  his  great  chair  he  closed 
his  eyes,  overcome  by  the  sickening  feeling  that  he 
was  struggling  against  the  inevitable,  against  his  own 
wretched  fate,  that  fate  he  always  accused  of  all  his 
misfortunes,  and  he  bowed  his  head  to  the  tempest 
which  he  knew  would  now  be  his  punishment. 

Archduchess  Sophia's  eyes  flashed  with  triumph.  So 
she  had  not  been  mistaken ;  it  was  only  a  second  of  gal- 
vanic energy,  after  all!  Now  her  path  lay  plain  before 
her,  and  all  there  was  in  her  of  tenacious  persistence  and 
ruthless  resolution  rose  up  to  do  battle  for  her  son. 
Win  she  would,  and  now! 

She  was  as  one  inspired ;  her  extraordinary  intensity 
of  feeling  communicated  itself  with  telegraphic  rapidity 
to  Ferdinand,  and  he  drew  back  from  her  apprehen- 
sively. 

With  one  swift  movement  she  was  beside  him,  and 

64 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

gripped  his  shoulder  beween  her  slender  fingers  with 
a  force  that  staggered  and  shook  him  from  head  to  foot. 

"Sophia!  for  God's  sake,  Sophia!"  he  cried,  in  terror. 
"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"You  want  to  know  what  I  am  going  to  do?"  she  said, 
in  a  low  voice  through  clinched  teeth.  "Well,  I  think 
I'll  tell  you,  but  you  will  wish  you  had  never  asked." 

She  paused,  pressing  her  lips  tightly  together,  as  if  to 
control  a  rising  tide  of  exultation,  and  smiled  down  at 
him  contemptuously.  How  collapsed  and  helpless  he 
looked,  shrunk  into  the  depths  of  his  great  chair!  She 
wondered  that  for  a  moment  she  could  have  doubted 
her  ability  to  crush  him.  As  for  the  Emperor,  he  would 
have  cried  out  if  he  had  entertained  any  hope  of  being 
heard,  but  he  had  by  this  time  completely  forgotten  his 
aide-de-camp,  who,  even  had  he  been  summoned,  could 
certainly  not  have  helped  him  out  of  this  mauvais-pas, 
and  so  he  looked  up  at  his  tormentor  with  abject  fear 
and  almost  hypnotic  fascination,  as  if  he  were  drawn 
against  his  will  to  utter  destruction  within  the  whirl- 
pool of  her  ever-growing  power. 

"You  want  to  know  what  I  am  going  to  do?"  she  re- 
peated, still  smiling  and  with  a  hard,  cold  certainty  of 
intonation  and  enunciation.  "You  will  know  in  good 
time,  but  first  I'll  tell  you,  once  for  all,  what  I  want, 
what  I  have  wanted  for  many  years — ah,  yes!  longed  for 
as  no  other  woman  has  ever  longed  for  anything,  for  no 
woman's  world  has  ever  meant  anything  to  me.  You 
accused  me  just  now  of  feeling  contempt  for  all  human 
relations.  Well,  it  is,  in  a  great  measure,  true.  I  am 
not  one  to  be  attracted  by  second-rate  emotions,  or  by 
the  various  sensations  which  you  sentimental  people 
call  love — filial  love,  parental  love,  love  "  tout  court."  I 
need  not  enumerate  them  all,  even  you  must  know  what 
I  mean!  I  never  could  comprehend  such  idiocy.  What 
5  65 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

is  life  to  most  women  but  an  ugly,  degrading  succession 
of  days  and  nights,  shackled,  enslaved,  and  cursed  ?  And 
all  because  every  woman's  ambition  turns  towards  love, 
or  the  pretence  of  love,  towards  social  successes,  luxury, 
a  grand  marriage,  or,  if  she  be  so  inclined,  towards  chil- 
dren that  are  first  mere  playthings  and  afterwards  be- 
come tyrants!" 

Her  face  changed  suddenly,  as  the  face  of  one  might 
change  who  passes  from  the  first  exultation  of  success 
to  the  fruition  of  long-deferred  hope.  She  gazed  down 
at  him  with  unseeing  eyes,  her  hand  dropped  from  his 
shoulder,  and  it  seemed  as  if  his  cowering  figure  and  gray, 
drawn  face  had  slipped  from  her  consciousness,  as  things 
no  longer  of  consequence  or  meaning.  To  the  submis- 
sive Emperor  there  was  something  almost  appalling  in 
this  visible  union  between  the  evident  activity  of  her 
soul  and  the  marble-like  inactivity  of  her  body;  her 
silence  seemed  unnatural,  worse  than  speech,  and  it 
brought  additional  distress  to  his  overstrained  nerves, 
without,  however,  lessening  that  curious  and  weird  fas- 
cination she  exercised  over  him.  After  a  moment  she 
resumed,  still  without  appearing  to  see  him,  and  in  a 
slow,  meditative  voice,  as  if  thinking  now  aloud  rather 
than  addressing  him. 

"Women!  what  are  they — even  those  whom  one  calls 
great — but  creatures  of  the  moment,  beings  whom  a  mere 
grain  of  dust  may  blind,  who  are  bred  to  smother  hate 
under  smiles  and  disgust  under  compliments,  who  are 
broken  in  early  youth  to  the  full  hypocrisies  of  human 
life,  and  who,  as  a  rule,  are  governed  by  purely  sensual 
motives?  What  were  Catherine  of  Russia,  Cleopatra, 
Marguerite  of  Burgundy,  Elizabeth  of  England,  and 
their  like,  but  slaves  to  their  impulses,  endlessly  dis- 
satisfied, unreliable,  untrustworthy,  unable  to  conquer 
themselves  or  to  lead  others,  except  by  cruelty !"~ 

66 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Then  her  eyes  flashed  into  life  again. 

"I  am  not  ruled  by  what  fills  up  other  women's  lives, 
by  hand  touching  hand,  or  lips  touching  lips,  by  the  per- 
fume of  a  flower  or  by  the  state  of  the  weather.  I  do 
not  exist  to  fill  other  women  with  envy  or  to  capture 
men.  Thank  God,  I  am  made  differently!  My  desires 
have  nothing  in  common  with  theirs.  My  one  ambition, 
my  only  one,  is  power,  as  you  say,  but  not  for  myself! 
No,  not  that,  but  for  the  boy  whom,  ever  since  his  birth, 
I  have  fashioned  with  my  own  hands  to  be  a  king.  My 
conception  of  the  nobility  of  human  nature  cannot  be 
said  to  be  absurdly  high,  but  a  king  must  be  sans  re- 
proche,  free  from  all  the  ordinary  tinsel  of  modern  roy- 
alty, its  shams,  its  pretences,  and  its  small,  narrow,  sor- 
did views.  Austria  needs  such  a  king  to  drag  her  from 
the  gutter  of  anarchy  and  revolution ,  where  you  and  your 
predecessors  have  criminally  allowed  her  to  fall.  No, 
do  not  interrupt  me!  You  are  a  tricky  egotist,  without 
a  thought  that  is  not  concentrated  upon  self.  You 
have  always  considered  yourself  too  good  for  the  wear 
and  tear  of  real  sovereignty ! ' ' 

The  faintest  little  quiver  of  revolt  showed  itself  in 
Ferdinand's  eyes,  but  she  silenced  him  with  a  peremptory 
wave  of  her  slim,  authoritative  hand,  and  continued: 

"You  have  completely  ignored  your  sacred  responsi- 
bilities. Such  meekness  as  yours  is,  in  a  monarch,  an 
absolutely  contemptible  virtue,  for  some  people  call 
meekness  a  virtue,  do  they  not?  To  yield,  out  of  sheer 
lack  of  spirit,  has  been  your  usual  principle  throughout. 
Your  rule — one  should  hardly  call  it  that — has  been  a 
grotesque  farce,  with,  added  to  it,  since  a  year,  a  dan- 
gerous element  of  tragedy,  and  during  it  you  have 
never  accomplished  anything  for  the  good  of  your 
people,  but  only  infinite  harm  by  your  insane  neglect 

and  pusillanimity." 

67 


A    KEYSTOiNE    OF    EMPIRE 

Her  mouth  was  twisted  with  contempt,  her  voice  had 
become  harsh  and  grating  while  pronouncing  her  inex- 
orable judgment. 

The  Emperor  shuffled  his  feet  in  a  manner  suggestive 
of  increasing  discomfort,  his  dull  eyes  beginning  to 
blink,  as  eyes  do  in  dazzling  sunshine. 

"You  want  me  to  abdicate  in  favor  of  your  son?"  he 
said,  suddenly,  in  a  trembling  voice.  "Why  do  you  not 
say  so?" 

For  just  an  instant  Archduchess  Sophia  started  in 
obvious  surprise.  Was  her  Imperial  dummy  about  to 
behave  like  an  intelligent  being  and  spare  her  any 
further  effort? 

"Is  not  that  what  you  want?"  he  asked  again,  in  his 
thin,  high-pitched,  querulous  voice. 

"That  is  ex-act-ly  what  I  want,"  she  replied,  slowly 
and  deliberately. 

But  Ferdinand  was  not  quite  as  malleable  as  she  had 
hoped.  He  fidgeted  and  writhed  under  her  scrutinizing 
gaze,  his  face  twitching  fantastically  and  tears  actually 
rising  in  his  lack-lustre  eyes. 

"I  can't  do  it,  Sophia,  indeed  I  cannot.  Think  of  my 
deserting  the  throne  when  it  is  menaced — of  showing  the 
white  feather !  Think  of  the  ridicule — the — the  baseness 
of  it!  I  may  be  a  weak  and  worthless  man,  as  you  say, 
but  this  I  cannot  do ;  it  would  be  like  seeing  hell  through 
its  open  doors!" 

The  Archduchess's  face  whitened  and  her  straight 
brows  ominously  lowered  over  her  eyes. 

"You  miserable  wretch!"  she  cried,  shaking  from  head 
to  foot  in  uncontrollable  passion.  "What  idiotic  volte- 
face  is  this,  after  living  a  life  of  utter,  remorseless  selfish- 
ness, during  which  all  the  manhood  you  ever  possessed 
has  dwindled  away  to  nothing?  What  insanity  has 
overtaken  you  to  propose  playing  the  part  of  a  man  now, 

68 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

not  to  mention  that  of  a  sovereign?  Do  you  imagine 
that  I  will  allow  your  still-born  scruples  to  interfere 
with  the  fulfilment  of  my  boy's  destiny?  Do  you  fancy 
that  I  will  let  the  monarchy  be  killed  by  your  feeble  at- 
tempts to  retain  a  hold  upon  what  is  left  of  it?" 

She  bent  lower  to  scan  his  ashen  cheeks,  which  looked 
as  if  they  would  be  as  cold  to  the  touch  as  those  of  a 
corpse. 

"You  are,"  she  resumed,  keeping  her  eagle  glance 
upon  him,  and  with  a  ring  of  sarcasm  in  her  voice  terrible 
in  its  cold  intensity — "you  are  a  fit  person  to  hold  the 
reins  of  a  runaway  chariot  of  state,  are  you  not?  A  nice 
yellow  image  to  waken  from  your  reptilian  lethargy  now 
— now  that  it  is  too  late!" 

The  Emperor  gazed  at  her  with  almost  animal  fear, 
like  a  poor,  crouching  dog  "begging  off"  from  punish- 
ment, but  it  was  only  too  evident  that  she  had  no  inten- 
tion of  relenting.  With  a  pitiful  effort  he  succeeded  in 
controlling  himself  for  a  moment,  then  shame,  humil- 
iation, and  the  violence  of  change  mastered  him,  and 
with  a  groan  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 

An  almost  tangible  silence  reigned  for  a  moment, 
broken  only  by  the  fresh  murmur  of  the  fountains  tossed 
by  a  rising  breeze.  Then,  in  her  ordinary  calm  and 
commanding  voice,  the  Archduchess  resumed: 

' '  You  shall  recall  Franz  at  once !  He  has  received  his 
baptism  of  fire,  he  has  showed  the  metal  he  is  made  of, 
and  there  is  no  longer  any  reason  for  him  to ' ' — she  had 
almost  said  "endanger  his  life,"  but  checked  herself  and 
said  "remain  absent"  instead.  "The  strong  hand  of 
youth,  integrity,  and  fearlessness  can  alone  arrest  the 
course  of  events;  therefore  you  will  arrange  everything 
as  secretly  and  quietly  as  possible  for  your  abdication. 
I  do  not  intend  to  have  this  matter  discussed  en  famille, 
it  is  always  best  to  keep  one's  family  at  arm's-length! 

69 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Not  even  the  Empress  is  to  know  about  it  as  yet.  She 
is  an  excellent  creature,  a  dear,  good  soul,  but  she  is 
entirely  at  the  mercy  of  her  father  -  confessor,  and  I 
desire  to  avoid  complications.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  lie 
about  the  matter,  because  a  lie  is  always  a  mistake. 
Simply  refrain  from  talking.  I  am  not  of  a  diplomatic 
turn  of  mind,  but  diplomacy  is  an  elastic  word,  and 
the  greatest  diplomacy  of  all  is  to  hold  one's  tongue. 
In  conclusion,  let  me  add,  that  should  you  in  any  way 
play  me  false,  be  it  ever  so  slightly,  I  have  means  to 
force  you  into  obedience!" 

The  Emperor  rose  to  his  feet.  He  was  still  very  white, 
and  there  were  dark  rings  around  his  eyes — he  confessed 
afterwards  that  the  very  sound  of  his  sister-in-law's 
voice  had  given  him  a  sensation  of  actual  nausea! 
There  were  beads  of  perspiration  on  his  forehead,  he 
cleared  his  throat  as  if  he  were  suffering  from  a  cold, 
and  fidgeted  about  as  if  desperately  anxious  to  escape. 

"Is  that  all,"  he  asked — "all  you  really  require  of 
me?" 

She  did  not  answer.  Her  gown  rustled  slightly  as  she 
straightened  herself  to  her  full  height. 

He  cleared  his  throat  again.  "Is  that  all?"  he  re- 
peated. 

'Yes,  provided  you  promise  what  I  ask,  and  keep 
that  promise,  I  think  it  is  all;  but  promise  you  must!" 

She  spoke  determinedly,  and  his  face  became  distorted 
with  an  expression  of  absolute  loathing  as  she  bent  tow- 
ards him.  Then  he  replied,  reluctantly  and  in  a  manner 
calculated  to  inspire  serious  doubts  as  to  his  sincerity: 

"I  promise." 

"Unstable  as  water,"  she  exclaimed,  piercing  him  with 
her  keen,  comprehending  eyes.  "But  I  think  that  this 
time  you  will  follow  the  line  of  the  least  resistance  by 
holding  to  your  word." 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Then,  with  a  slight  bow,  she  walked  rapidly  away, 
leaving  him  beaten  and  humiliated,  his  colorless  features 
transformed  into  a  vehement  mask  of  grief,  hatred,  and 
impotent  rage;  undignified,  almost  absurd,  and  rocking 
to  and  fro,  as  if  about  to  fall. 


CHAPTER  III 

Emperor  Ferdinand,  when  confronted  by  forces  that 
daunted  him — for  to  others  he  opposed  a  monolithic 
inertia — was,  morally  speaking,  very  like  a  hollow  rub- 
ber ball,  yielding  and  soft,  but  extremely  difficult  to 
permanently  impress.  Archduchess  Sophia  had  ap- 
plied force,  and  with  such  energy  as  to  momentarily 
impair  the  Imperial  elasticity,  but  there  remained  still 
an  almost  undiminished  power  of  rolling,  rebounding, 
and  executing  resilient  evasions  of  various  kinds,  and 
though  her  threat  of  enforcing  obedience  was  not  by  any 
means  an  idle  one,  yet  great  things  take  time  in  doing, 
and  to  push  a  monarch  from  his  throne  judiciously,  and 
with  due  regard  to  surrounding  circumstances  of  a  some- 
what chaotic  nature,  must  be  reckoned  among  these. 

Ferdinand,  while  incapable  of  defending  it,  prized  his 
Imperial  dignity  as  none  but  utterly  selfish  men  can 
prize  any  of  the  so-called  good  things  of  this  life,  as  none 
but  insignificant  men  can  prize  a  purely  fortuitous  dis- 
tinction, and  now  that  the  possibility  of  losing  the 
throne  stared  him  in  the  face,  he  only  clung  the  tighter 
to  it. 

As  a  consequence,  if  he  had  passed  his  existence  dis- 
agreeably before,  he  now  lived  in  a  veritable  Inferno. 
Wildly  suspicious  of  everything  and  everybody,  his 
whole  attitude  was  that  of  one  continually  expectant  of 
some  outrage,  his  eyes  restlessly  searched  his  entourage, 
half  defiant,  incessantly  watching,  fearful  of  neglect,  or 
of  any  sign  that  his  secret  was  known,  and  that  any  one 

72 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

should  see  that  his  sceptre  was  passing  away  from 
him. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  indomitable  Archduchess  bided 
her  time,  confident  that  her  hand  held  the  master  card, 
and  keeping  him  under  the  surveillance  of  an  eye  that 
sent  a  chilly  thrill  through  him  every  time  he  encountered 
its  penetrating  glance. 

Events  moved  rapidly  onward,  however,  towards  the 
realization  of  her  schemes.  Less  than  two  weeks  after 
the  memorable  interview  in  the  "Gloriette,"  the  Em- 
peror and  several  members  of  the  Imperial  family,  in- 
cluding, of  course,  the  Archduchess,  removed  from  the 
surcharged  atmosphere  of  Vienna  to  loyal  Tyrol,  and 
settled  at  Innsbruck.  This  was  not  exactly  a  flight,  but 
a  "prudent  step "  on  the  part  of  a  man  too  sick  of  body 
and  of  heart  to  offer  effective  resistance. 

After  feebly  attempting  for  a  time  to  direct  affairs 
from  this  secure  retreat,  the  Emperor  wearied  even  of 
this  shred  of  sovereignty,  and  sent  Archduke  John  to 
Vienna,  giving  him  full  vice  -  regal  powers.  Unfortu- 
nately, there  was  another  viceroy  in  Hungary,  as  inde- 
pendent of  the  Viennese  representative  as  the  latter 
was  of  him,  so  that  with  the  weak  central  authority 
thus  divided  between  two  mutually  hostile  sections  of 
the  country,  the  people  drank  deep  of  the  first  and  most 
inalienable  of  the  rights  of  freemen,  more  dear  even  than 
"life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,"  that  of 
quarrelling  at  large,  violently,  and  indiscriminately. 

German  and  Czech,  Pole  and  Italian,  Magyar,  Slovak, 
and  Croat,  all  pursued  their  racial  and  provincial  interests 
without  the  slightest  possible  regard  for  the  integrity  of 
the  Empire.  Prague  lay  in  ruins  after  a  fierce  bom- 
bardment and  several  days  of  desperate  street-fighting, 
and  while  Hungary  stood  ready  to  fight  both  the  Slavs 
and  the  Imperial  authority,  Jellachich,  Ban  of  Croatia, 

73 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

summoned  an  assembly  of  Croatian  leaders  to  concert 
measures  both  against  the  Emperor  and  the  Hungari- 
ans. Truly  the  apple  of  discord  had  begun  to  roll 
merrily  on! 

Archduke  Franz  had,  much  to  his  disgust,  been  re- 
called from  the  Italian  war  soon  after  his  mother  had 
dictated  that  measure  to  his  uncle,  and  spent  a  restless 
two  months  among  the  mountains  striving  vainly — 
since  his  whole  heart  and  soul  were  far  away  upon  the 
plains  of  Lombardy — to  interest  himself  in  the  scenes 
and  sports  which  he  had  loved  so  well  and  which  had 
never  failed  him  before. 

When  at  length  the  Emperor  tardily  decided  to  re- 
visit Vienna,  and  to  take  up  his  residence  at  Schon-  * 
brunn,  he  accompanied  him  there,  glad  to  be  so  much 
nearer  to  the  scene  of  events,  even  if  he  were  not  al- 
lowed to  take  in  them  the  part  for  which  he  longed, 
even  if  he  were  but  exchanging  the  quiet  of  the  hills 
for  the  calm  still  lingering  on  the  edge  of  the  storm. 

There  was  nothing  about  the  grand  old  Imperial  resi- 
dence to  remind  one  of  the  neighborhood  of  that  unruly 
Kaiserstadt,  where  now  raged  such  a  melee  of  racial  and 
social  strife.  Everything  that  met  the  eye  bespoke  it  a 
"haunt  of  ancient  peace";  vision  ranged  restfully  over 
the  low  terraces  with  their  broad  flights  of  shallow  mar- 
ble steps  and  ivy-mantled  balustrades,  drowsy  gardens, 
heavy  with  fragrant  odors,  dazzling  with  a  profusion  of 
magnificent  bloom,  great  groups  of  velvet-boughed  Si- 
berian pines  spreading  tentlike  over  emerald  lawns, 
corbeilles  wherein  the  flowers  of  Africa  and  India  arrayed 
themselves  in  beauty,  and  deep  defiles  of  luxuriant  foli- 
age through  which  glittered  the  tall  jets  of  the  foun- 
tains; the  laughing  voice  of  the  waters  and  the  joyous 
songs  of  many  birds,  alone  disturbing  the  summer  silence 
that  hung  golden  over  all. 

74 


A    KEYSTONE    OP    EMPIRE 

In  Archduke  Franz  all  this  loveliness  touched  no  re- 
sponsive chord;  to  him  the  splendid  gates  of  Schonbrunn 
were  as  the  four  walls  of  a  prison.  He  was  no  longer  a 
boy,  for  though  not  yet  quite  eighteen — his  birthday 
fell  on  the  18th  of  August — he  was  a  man  grown,  he  had 
lived  within  the  circle  of  that  fierce  light  which  beats 
upon  a  throne,  and  been  prematurely  ripened  by  all  the 
forcing  influences  that  dwell  there.  Already  he  had 
known  warfare,  danger,  the  leadership  of  men,  the  pleas- 
ures of  duty  well  done,  the  intoxication  of  applause;  and 
he  cursed  his  present  inaction  while  blood  flowed  on 
every  side,  while  there  were  fights  to  be  fought,  and 
swords  to  follow  the  hoofs  of  his  charger.  With  a  hun- 
dred heroic  dreams  surging  in  his  brain,  he  fretted  in- 
wardly, as  a  high-mettled  horse  frets  at  the  martingale 
hampering  its  every  movement,  and  sank  deeper  and 
deeper  each  day  in  the  reserve  and  moodiness  of  hope 
deferred. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Archduchess  Sophia  al- 
most regretted  a  step  taken  by  her,  for  during  this  period 
of  inaction  the  young  Archduke  fell  once  more  under  the 
spell  of  the  woman  who  had  been  the  primary  cause  of 
his  joining  Radetzky's  army. 

To  this  headstrong  beauty  the  conquest  of  the  cold, 
proud,  self-reliant  boy,  who  had  once  already  escaped 
her  wiles,  had  become  a  burning  question  of  unsatisfied 
vanity,  almost  of  baffled  malice.  She  was  in  the  most 
perfect  years  of  her  youth,  at  the  height  of  her  matchless 
loveliness,  she  had  not  a  wish  she  could  not  instantly 
gratify,  and  her  slender,  arched  foot  was  irretrievably 
pressed  down  upon  the  neck  of  the  great  Viennese 
world.  She  ruled  it  as  she  listed.  Moreover,  she  was 
thoroughly  aware  of  her  power,  and  of  the  fact  that 
the  sceptre  of  great  physical  beauty  and  the  skill  of  a 
born  tactician  were  hers,  and  therefore  did  not  doubt 

75 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

that  thus  armed  she  could  vanquish  both  the  Imperial 
youth  and  his  imperious  mother. 

Alas!  of  what  avail  is  it  for  us  to  erect  our  sand 
castles  for  attack  or  defence  when  any  chance  blast 
of  fate  may  blow  them  to  nothing?  Life  hinges  upon 
hazard,  and  at  every  turn  wisdom  or  folly  are  mocked 
by  it ;  so  at  least  both  Archduchess  Sophia  and  her  fair 
antagonist  were  fated  to  speedily  discover. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  lady  played  her  cards 
with  amazing  cleverness.  Her  low,  sweet  whisperings, 
the  gleam  of  her  luminous  eyes,  with  their  dangerous 
eloquence,  her  thrilling,  musical  voice,  and  crystalline, 
tantalizing  laugh,  all  were  brought  into  play  with  ex- 
treme felicity,  and  last,  but  not  least,  the  irresistible 
mournfulness  which  has  already  been  mentioned,  and 
which  at  times  gave  so  winsome  a  droop  to  the  heavily 
fringed  lids  of  her  dark  eyes,  thrilled  her  chivalrous  young 
admirer  with  ardent  and  perilous  sympathy  and  pity. 

Archduke  Franz's  strength  had  as  yet,  of  course,  the 
polish  of  steel  that  has  never  been  dimmed,  and  he 
thought  himself  quite  secure,  believing,  as  all  very 
young  men  do,  that  he  could  handle  fire  without  feel- 
ing the  flame — a  complete  self-confidence  not  without 
its  own  grandeur,  but  bound  to  find  itself  mistaken 
ninety-nine  times  out  of  every  hundred. 

She  drew  him  on  and  on;  the  real  instinct,  the  true 
pleasure  of  this  soft,  exquisite  creature  being,  after  all, 
cruelty  and  the  satisfaction  of  her  every  whim,  and  he, 
whenever  he  was  in  her  presence,  showed  by  the  very 
darkening  of  his  eyes,  the  lowered  gentleness  of  his  voice, 
that,  as  day  followed  day,  his  enslavement  grew  more 
and  more  complete,  and  that  her  toils  were  being  drawn 
tighter  and  tighter  about  him. 

It  was  not  alone  Archduchess  Sophia  who  writhed  and 
fumed  as  she  watched  this  fascination  of  a  boy,  so  gentle 

76 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

of  nature,  so  true  of  honor,  so  strong,  and  so  frank,  and, 
in  one  word,  so  different  from  others,  by  the  most  capri- 
cious of  coquettes;  for  all  those  who  loved  him  thought 
alike  on  the  subject,  none  daring,  however,  to  warn  him, 
save  one  alone  who  rushed  in  where  angels  might  have 
been  afraid  to  tread. 

Prince  Richard  Metternich  was  too  young  as  yet  to 
have  been  influenced  by  life,  which,  to  a  greater  or  less- 
er extent  makes  egotists  and  dissemblers  of  us  all,  and 
had  so  far  quite  escaped  its  corrosion.  He  loved  Arch- 
duke Franz  like  a  brother,  nay  more  than  any  of  his 
(Franz's)  brothers  loved  him  —  for  they  were  by  now 
becoming  gradually  estranged  from  him  by  the  slowly 
growing  jealousy  I  have  already  alluded  to. 

The  bond  between  young  Prince  Metternich  and  his 
future  sovereign  was  a  close  and  firmly  riveted  one 
and  their  attachment  to  each  other  so  uncommon  that 
"Richard  Goldenherz "  ("  the  golden-hearted,"  as  he  was 
called  by  his  comrades),  although  himself  a  boy  of  barely 
nineteen,  considering  that  it  would  be  but  a  wretched 
friendship  that  would  shirk  the  truth  when  its  telling 
was  needed,  went  straight  to  the  enamoured  Heir-Ap- 
parent and  coolly  took  him  to  task  upon  a  subject  no 
man  in  his  senses  thinks  it  prudent  or  wise  to  touch  upon 
to  another. 

Moreover,  this  wiseacre,  yet  in  his  teens,  far  from 
mincing  matters,  spoke  out  his  mind  roundly,  and  de- 
clared unblushingly  and  in  the  most  decisive  fashion 
that  the  all-conquering  lady  of  his  thoughts  was  "a  pan- 
ther with  merciless  claws,"  "  a  capricious  witch,  scatter- 
ing coquetries  broadcast,  and  making  her  unfortunate 
husband  ridiculous,"  and,  in  one  word,  attributed  to  her 
all  the  wanton  treachery  of  a  social  Circe,  playing  un- 
scrupulously and  matchlessly  with  the  hearts  and  lives 
of  men. 

77 


* 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Franz  listened  to  him  with  ominous  tranquillity,  and, 
when  at  last  the  impetuous  flood  of  words  ceased,  in- 
formed his  self-appointed  mentor  that  even  ' '  old  friend- 
ship" may  be  officious  and  impertinent,  that  the  office 
of  moral  censor  sat  very  ill  on  so  inexperienced  a  coun- 
sellor, that  attentions  to  young  married  women  were  not 
by  any  manner  of  means  uncommon  transgressions  in 
gay  Vienna,  and  that  by  this  and  by  that — as  the  Irish 
put  it — his  (Richard's)  virtue,  need  not  be  alarmed,  since 
the  lady  under  discussion  was  not  at  all  what  he  sup- 
posed her  to  be,  but  an  angel  of  purity  and  innocence, 
enduring^,  wittf.  admirable  and  extraordinary  fortitude 
her  most  miserable  lot. 

The  poor  counsellor,  totally  routed  and  deeply  hurt 
when  he  found  that  his  excellently  meant  advice  was 
so  ill-received,  crept  away  to  nurse  his  wounds  in  soli- 
tude, while  Franz,  stung  to  madness  by  words  which  had 
unwittingly  heaped  fuel  on  the  flame,  began  to  be  cer- 
tain that  there  remained  for  him  on  earth  nothing 
worth  heeding,  remembering,  or  caring  for,  but  that  one 
slender,  graceful  being  who  had  shackled  him,  as  in  gyves 
of  iron,  with  the  silky  locks  of  her  yellow  hair. 

That  very  night  there  was  a  demi-gala  dinner  at 
Schonbrunn  on  the  occasion  of  some  birthday  or  an- 
niversary, and,  in  spite  of  Archduchess  Sophia's  pro- 
tests, "Archduke  Franz's  Siren"  —  as  the  enchanting 
blonde  aux  yeux  noirs  was  now  designated — was  present, 
looking  more  enticing  and  more  than  ever  determined  to 
conquer. 

With  her  glittering  hair  crowned  by  the  velvety  blue 
of  priceless  sapphires,  her  exquisite  form  shrouded  but 
not  in  any  way  concealed  by  clouds  of  snow-white  gauzes 
light  as  morning  mists,  and  her  dark  eyes  gleaming 
with  mischief,  she  seemed  to  have  set  her  will  upon 
making  her  beauty  more  than  mortal,  in  order  to  goad 

78 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

him  until  he  was  utterly  her  bond-slave,  "pied  et  poings 
lie's."  His  eyes  followed  her  with  a  look  of  admira- 
tion which  she  fanned  to  fire  by  glances  of  superhuman 
witchery,  or  by  the  mere  sweep  of  her  dress  across  his 
feet.  To  arouse  and  then  play  with  the  self-contained 
nature  of  her  Imperial  prize  was  a  regal  de  deesse  for  this 
voluptuous  coquette,  and  certainly  on  that  night  she 
surpassed  herself  and  mastered  him  as  Vivien  did  her 
lover  under  the  murmuring  foliage  of  Broceliande. 

Perchance,  the  only  compensation  which  the  revolu- 
tionary climax  offered  was  that  it  put  yet  another  tem- 
porary end  to  this  perilous  game,  else,  like  Antony,  for- 
getting all  for  his  Queen's  blandishments,  the  young 
Archduke  might  have  been  sore  tempted  to  leave  his 
shield  for  foes  to  mock  at,  his  sword  to  rust,  and  his 
honor  to  drift  away  while  he  lay  lapped  in  the  love  of  a 
worthless  woman.  But  all  was  not  yet  over  between 
those  two,  alas!  and  more  was  to  follow  when  graver 
cares  than  those  of  love  and  passion  lulled  a  little  around 
the  young  Emperor  that  was  to  be. 

September  was  on  the  wane,  and  autumn  drew  near, 
heralded  by  a  glory  of  heliotrope  and  "Louise  de  Savoie " 
roses,  which  filled  the  old  park  with  exquisite  fragrance, 
when  alarming  intelligence  arrived.  Hungary  had  al- 
ready broken  loose,  Kossuth  was  dictator,  and  swiftly 
on  the  heels  of  these  heavy  blows  came  the  news  that 
Count  Lamberg,  hurrying  to  take  the  chief  command  of 
the  Imperial  troops  in  the  revolted  kingdom,  which  had 
just  been  intrusted  to  his  strong,  firm  hands,  had  been 
met  by  a  mob  upon  the  bridge  at  Buda-Pesth,  and  bru- 
tally hacked  to  pieces  with  scythes  and  spades.  A  week 
later  the  seismic  wave  had  radiated  to  Vienna  itself,  as 
to  a  volcano  which  for  a  long  time  has  muttered  and 
threatened  unheeded,  so  that  the  6th  of  October  was 
rendered   memorable    by   an   explosion   that   not  only 

79 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

numbered  among  its  many  victims  the  Minister  of  War, 
Count  Baillet  de  Latour,  but  sent  Emperor  Ferdinand 
galloping  as  fast  as  his  horses  could  drag  him  from  the 
vicinity  of  his  raging  capital. 

A  day  or  so  before  the  outbreak,  having  been  asked  to 
authorize  a  scheme  for  quelling  the  vehemence  and  tur- 
bulence of  his  good  burghers  by  force  of  arms,  the  Em- 
peror, who,  though  irresolute  and  broken  in  health  and 
spirit,  was  by  no  means  devoid  of  the  hereditary  Habs- 
burg  courage,  ordered  his  carriage,  and,  accompanied 
only  by  one  aide-de-camp,  proceeded  to  drive  through 
the  concourse  of  violently  excited  people  thronging  the 
Leopoldstadt,  the  Josephstadt,  and  all  those  thorough- 
fares which  had  been  reported  to  him  as  most  danger- 
ous. 

Of  course,  what  was  bound  to  take  place  happened, 
for  the  Viennese,  loyal  at  heart,  in  spite  of  their  over- 
heated heads  and  seething  rancors,  and  always  disposed 
to  make  much  of  their  Emperors,  as  soon  as  they  caught 
sight  of  Ferdinand  leaning  carelessly  back  in  his  victoria 
and  accompanied  merely  by  an  aide-de-camp,  began  to 
cheer  him  enthusiastically.  Naturally  this  delighted 
the  monarch,  and  upon  his  return  he  declared,  with  a 
chuckle,  and  in  the  popular  dialect  invariably  spoken 
by  the  Imperial  family  and  the  aristocracy: 

"  /'  auf  mane  guten  Wianer  Schiessen!  Gar  Ka'  Red; 
die  san  ja  mane  liaben  kinder!" 

(I  shoot  my  good  Viennese?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  They 
are  my  own  dear  children.) 

Thus  absolutely  deceived  by  the  expressions  of  an  al- 
most instinctive  sentiment  of  affection  for  the  ruler, 
Ferdinand  was  thrown  into  a  correspondingly  severe 
confusion  and  consternation  when  Count  Latour  fell  a 
victim  to  the  obstinately  conciliatory  Imperial  policy, 

and,  absolutely  at  his  wit's  end,  he  could  think  of  no 

8<> 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

better  move  than  his  lamentably  ill-advised  flight  to 
the  Moravian  fortress  of  Olmiitz. 

The  maintenance  of  order  in  the  capital  had  been  in- 
trusted to  the  National  Guards,  a  militia  for  the  most 
part  disaffected,  and  to  the  Academic  Legion,  a  student 
corps  frequently  designated  in  its  political  aspect — 
which  was  insanely  inflammatory  and  seditious — as  the 
"Aula,"  from  the  fact  of  its  holding  meetings  in  the  hall 
of  the  University.  Troops  of  the  line  to  the  number  of 
some  twelve  thousand  men,  under  Count  Auersperg,  were 
scattered  about  the  suburbs  of  the  city. 

The  students  earnestly  desired  "freedom,"  and  this 
they  could  find  according  to  their  notions  only  under  a 
republican  regime.  Desirous  of  doing  away  with  the 
existing  form  of  government,  they  naturally  hated  and 
feared  the  War  Minister  of  a  constitutional  monarchy, 
who,  moreover,  was  a  man  renowned  for  courage  and 
energy,  and  lost  no  opportunity  of  making  him  a  scape- 
goat for  all  the  evils,  real  or  imaginary,  that  they  consid- 
ered the  people  were  suffering.  They  worked  actively 
for  his  overthrow  among  the  ignorant  populace,  de- 
nouncing him  in  inflammatory  speeches  at  tavern  meet- 
ings or  street  assemblages,  and,  even  within  the  precincts 
of  the  University  itself,  circulating  placards  demanding 
vengeance  for  his  alleged  misdeeds,  and  inspiring  news- 
paper cartoons  against  him.  Finally,  a  few  days  before 
the  outbreak,  when  a  large  part  of  the  National  Guard 
and  the  proletariat  were  convinced  that  Latour  was 
really  a  monster,  deserving  of  even  worse  than  death, 
they  worked  themselves  up  to  the  point  of  declaring  that 
he  should  be  hanged. 

Nor  was  the  match  to  fire  the  train  long  wanting. 
Troops  from  the  capital  had  been  ordered  to  proceed 
against  the  Hungarians,  for  whom,  as  rebels  against  the 
government,  the  malcontents  had  a  fellow-feeling,  and  a 

6  Si 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

certain  grenadier  battalion,  long  quartered  amid  metro- 
politan delights,  had  no  desire  to  go  to  the  front,  and 
accordingly  fraternized  with  the  disaffected  portion  of 
the  populace  and  the  National  Guard. 

On  the  night  of  the  5th  of  October  a  deputation  of  Na- 
tional Guards  waited  upon  the  War  Minister,  asking  that 
the  battalion  should  not  be  dispatched  from  the  city. 
Latour  referred  the  request,  as  a  matter  beyond  his  im- 
mediate decision,  to  the  military  commander,  Count 
Auersperg,  who,  of  course,  refused  it,  and  directed  that  a 
force  of  cavalry  should  be  on  hand  to  insure  the  obedi- 
ence of  the  recalcitrant  grenadiers. 

The  National  Guard  and  the  "Aula"  could  not  tamely 
submit  to  this  new  exhibition  of  "arbitrary"  power. 
Delegations  went  out  to  the  suburbs,  under  cover  of 
darkness,  and  worked  to  such  effect  that  by  the  following 
morning  a  section  of  the  railway  over  which  the  troops 
were  to  be  sent  had  been  torn  up,  and  a  barricade, 
manned  by  a  strong  force,  erected  on  the  bridge  across 
which  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  march.  In  a  few 
hours,  when  an  attempt  to  force  the  passage  of  the 
bridge  had  resulted  in  the  desertion  to  the  populace  of 
the  mutinous  grenadiers,  and  in  the  sanguinary  defeat 
of  the  attacking  column  by  overwhelming  numbers,  the 
whole  city  was  aflame  with  excitement,  for  was  not  tyr- 
anny again  at  her  work  of  crushing  the  liberties  of  free- 
men? While  the  military  hesitated,  and  their  com- 
mander rushed  off  for  a  consultation  to  the  War  Office, 
whither  many  ministers,  deputies,  and  officers  of  the 
National  Guard  had  already  betaken  themselves  with  a 
similar  intent,  heated  orators  harangued  tumultuous 
crowds  in  the  streets,  gunsmiths'  shops  were  looted  for 
weapons,  frothing  students  rushed  from  house  to  house 
directing  that  boiling  water  and  boiling  oil  be  kept  in 
readiness  to  cast  from  the  upper  windows,  and  barri- 

82 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

cades  rose  as  if  by  magic  across  the  principal  thorough- 
fares. 

Meanwhile,  from  the  War  Office,  orders  were  issued 
to  put  down  by  main  force  the  armed  resistance  in  the 
suburbs,  and  some  pacificatory  proclamations  to  the  peo- 
ple, who  were  now  beyond  all  pacification,  were  made. 
Outside  the  city  there  was  a  collision  between  a  detach- 
ment of  the  Academic  Legion  and  the  Government  forces ; 
inside,  the  loyal  section  of  the  National  Guard,  while  at- 
tempting to  prevent  the  sounding  of  the  tocsin,  was  at- 
tacked by  the  mutinous  majority,  aided  by  the  mob,  and 
driven  in  a  bloody  rout  into  the  great  cathedral  church 
of  St.  Stephen,  where  they  barricaded  and  defended 
themselves  with  the  greatest  valor. 

Count  Latour  now  made  the  first  of  his  magnanimous 
mistakes.  The  guard  of  the  War  Office,  in  the  heart  of 
this  rebellious  city,  consisted  of  little  more  than  four 
companies  of  infantry;  but  on  hearing  how  the  loyal 
militia  were  besieged  in  the  church  he  sent  three  com- 
panies and  two  cannon  to  their  relief,  thus  decreasing 
his  available  force  to  about  two  hundred  men.  The 
officer  in  command  was  under  orders  to  return  for  the 
protection  of  the  War  Office  as  soon  as  he  had  accom- 
plished his  mission ;  but  the  mob  had  by  now  increased 
to  such  overpowering  numbers  that  not  only  was  the  re- 
treat of  his  forces  cut  off,  and  they  compelled  to  escape 
by  whatever  route  offered,  but  a  battalion  of  infantry 
sent  from  the  army  without,  to  insure  the  safety  of  Count 
Latour,  was  attacked  so  fiercely  from  all  sides  and  from 
the  windows  of  the  houses  that  it  retired  in  confusion. 

Then  the  mob  surged  up  to  the  gates  of  the  War  Office. 
Cut  off  and  beleaguered  on  every  side,  Count  Latour  had 
disposed  his  little  garrison  for  a  siege,  fastening  the  great 
front  gates,  barricading  the  rear  doors,  and  disposing  his 
men  for  the  defence  of  the  windows. 

83 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

It  was  a  strange  sight  that  the  gray-headed  soldier 
looked  down  upon.  Below  surged  and  swayed  a  terrible 
human  sea,  roaring  and  howling  with  a  ferocity  that  fre- 
quently blended  all  words  and  individual  cries  into  one 
heart-shaking  whirlwind  of  sound.  There  was  a  bub- 
bling foam  of  open-mouthed  faces,  those  strangely,  in- 
conceivably villainous  and  brutal  types  that  seem  for 
years,  for  centuries  even,  to  hide  in  the  cellars  and  sew- 
ers of  a  great  city,  and  to  creep  forth  in  dark  times  like 
these,  when  Cruelty  and  Horror  are  abroad;  while  here 
and  there  burst  up  from  the  weltering  commotion  a 
spray  of,  naked  arms,  brandishing  crowbars,  cudgels, 
lengths  of  lead  pipe,  pikes,  axes,  hammers,  cutlasses, 
and  a  motley  array  of  weapons  captured  from  the 
defeated  soldiery  or  looted  from  the  shops  of  the 
city. 

Now  and  again  the  dark  waves  broke  apart,  showing 
for  an  instant,  before  they  rushed  together  again,  in- 
dividual forms,  insane  atoms  that  went  to  form  the  total 
of  this  hideous  flood,  figures  in  the  uniforms  of  the  Na- 
tional Guard,  the  Academic  Legion,  the  mutinous  grena- 
dier battalion,  laborers,  thieves,  murderers  from  the 
slums,  market-women  shrieking  as  ferociously  as  their 
Parisian  sisters  of  1793,  and  not  infrequently  well-dress- 
ed people,  whose  respectable  appearance  was  somewhat 
contradicted  by  the  furtive  way  in  which  they  slipped 
about  and  threaded  their  way  among  the  press.  These 
were  the  agents  of  various  political  societies,  the  walk- 
ing delegates  of  revolution,  dropping  a  word  here, 
urging  there,  advising  everywhere,  avoiding  active  par- 
ticipation as  far  as  possible,  but  pushing  on  the  mad- 
dened throng  to  deeds  of  blood.  The  yells  and  cries  now 
rose  in  a  full-throated  tempest,  and  now  broke  and  scat- 
tered in  hoarse,  individual  vociferations,  culminating 
always  in  one  terrifying  shriek  of  "Death  to  Latour! 

34 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Down  with  the  tyrant!     Nieder  mil  detn  Hund.     Hang 
him!     Hang  him!" 

Many  times  during  the  immediately  preceding  days 
the  War  Minister  had  been  warned  that  his  life  was  in 
danger.  He  had  shrugged  his  shoulders  then,  he  shrug- 
ged them  now,  as  he  listened  to  these  roars  of  menace, 
and  coolly  surveyed  this  packed  mass  of  human  wild 
beasts  thirsting  for  his  blood.  Below  in  the  court -yard 
his  one  cannon  was  pointed  at  the  great  doors,  which 
groaned  and  thundered  to  the  assault  without;  behind 
it  stood  the  gunners,  steady  at  their  post,  waiting  the 
command  to  fire;  on  either  side  was  a  solid  column  of 
grenadiers  with  fixed  bayonets,  their  officers  at  their 
head.  Every  time  the  doors  seemed  to  yield  or  buckle 
to  a  fresh  blow,  he  could  see  the  men  start  and  lean  for- 
ward, like  eager  hounds  with  the  quarry  in  sight,  wait- 
ing for  the  slipping  of  the  leash. 

What  would  happen  when  that  gate  did  finally  burst 
open  was  before  the  minister's  inward  eye.  The  crashing 
discharge,  the  canister  at  that  terribly  short  range  cut- 
ting a  ghastly  lane  of  death  through  the  dense  masses  with- 
out, the  ordered  charge  of  disciplined  troops  passing  over 
that  maddened  herd,  the  flight,  the  shrieking  and  the 
slaughter  of  women  and  children.  A  well-timed  sortie  of 
even  so  small  a  force  might  disperse  the  cowardly  mob, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  grenadiers  were  beaten 
back,  he  could  at  least  defend  the  building  until  help 
should  arrive.  The  orders  were  given.  Should  he  swiftly 
countermand  them  before  it  was  too  late?  At  any  mo- 
ment the  gate  might  give  way.  He  felt  that  he  had  al- 
ready leaned  too  much  towards  conciliation;  besieged 
and  threatened,  he  had  not  yet  fired  a  shot  in  defence, 
when  to  defend  himself  seemed  the  only  soldierly — nay, 
common-sense  thing  to  do.  And  yet  there  were  his  in- 
structions from  the  Emperor.     Should  he  risk  it?  Should 

*5 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

he  make  one  more  trial  for  a  peaceful  solution  of  the 
trouble?  His  eye  glanced  again  over  the  impenetrable 
press  of  ignorance  and  blind  fury  outside,  and  he  smiled 
in  pitying  contempt. 

A  shattering  blow  from  without  and  a  crash  in  the 
court-yard  announced  that  a  portion  of  the  gate  had 
been  driven  in.  With  one  stride  the  minister  was  at  the 
window. 

"Don't  fire!  Don't  fire!"  he  cried  to  the  troops  be- 
low.    "Throw  open  the  gates!" 

"Let  them  come  in,  I  will  speak  to  them!"  he  said, 
turning  ^impatiently  to  the  deputies  and  ministers  who 
surrounded  him,  and  were  trying  to  reason  with  him. 

An  aide-de-camp  ran  down  with  orders.  At  once 
the  threatening  muzzle  of  the  gun  was  swung  around, 
and  as  the  dismayed  and  disheartened  soldiers  drew 
back,  the  gates  opened,  and  the  dammed-up  flood  swept 
through  the  portal  with  a  roar.  It  was  the  rush  of  be- 
siegers through  a  breach,  not  by  any  means  the  advance 
of  a  populace  impressed  by  the  Wrr  Minister's  frank, 
manly,  and  heroic  display  of  confidence. 

Quickly  he  himself  saw  his  fatal  mistake,  but,  alas!  no 
opportunity  was  given  him  to  retrieve  his  position.  Al- 
most immediately  the  people  thundered  through  the 
corridors,  drunk  with  rage  and  triumph,  shrieking  again 
loudly  for  his  blood.  Gaining  the  stairway  from  the 
now  thoroughly  demoralized  soldiers  set  to  guard  them, 
they  swarmed  through  the  upper  stories  of  the  building, 
battering  in  the  doors,  hurling  the  furniture  and  equip- 
ment of  the  rooms  through  the  windows  into  the  street, 
plundering  or  destroying  with  insensate  brutality  every- 
thing that  came  in  their  way.  There  was  no  time  to  be 
lost. 

Urging  the  ministers  and  others  who  offered  him  as- 
sistance to  look  to  their  own  safety,  Count  Latour,  at- 

S6 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

tended  by  his  aide-de-camp  and  several  officers  of  the 
army,  ascended  to  the  top  story  to  seek  a  way  of  escape. 

The  minutes  passed.  Drunken  fury,  unimaginably 
disgusting  and  horrible  to  behold,  reigned  in  the  War 
Office.  There  were  many  ring-leaders  but  no  leader, 
and  the  search  for  the  hated  Latour  appeared  to  be  de- 
generating into  a  mere  orgy  of  robbery  and  wanton  vio- 
lence, when  loud  shouts  arose  without,  and  those  craning 
from  the  windows  could  see  a  white  flag  slowly  forcing  a 
passage  through  the  dense  crowd  towards  the  gate.  A 
deputation  had  arrived  from  the  National  Diet  for  the 
protection  of  the  War  Minister! 

Slowly  pushing  their  way  up   the  packed  staircase, 
now  thrust  upward  by  a  rush  from  below,  now  forced 
down  by  a  torrent  from  above,  the  deputies  at  length 
encountered  some  of  Count  Latour's  companions,  who, 
despairing  of  escape,  had  prevailed  upon  him  to  seek 
concealment  while  they  scouted  through  the  building 
for  possible  assistance;  and  they  in  their  blindness  con- 
trived that  the  deputies  should  reach  the  Count.     Swift 
consultations  followed  in  an  isolated  chamber,  while  the 
tumult  sounded  all  about,  lost  In  the  labyrinth  of  rooms 
and  corridors.     Count  Latour's  resignation  was  urged 
upon  him,  and  granted  by  that  stout  old  soldier,  who 
conceded  for  the  restoration  of  peace  what  he  would  not 
for  his  own  safety;  but  even  this  failed  to  pacify  the 
hordes  that  were  by  now  storming  towards  the  doors  of 
the  apartment  in  which  he  was,  clamoring  to  see  him, 
and  threatening  even  the  lives  of  the  mediators  if  he  did 
not  show  himself  at  once.     The  resignation  as  written 
was  made  conditional  upon  the  approval  cf  the  Em- 
peror ;  but  though  the  deputies  repeatedly  protested  that 
this  would  be  a  fatal  objection,  Count  Latour  would  not 
have  it  otherwise. 

Nevertheless  the  people's  representatives  still  had  con- 

87 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

fidence  in  their  official  influence.  Pledging  their  pro- 
tection to  the  Count,  they  again  faced  the  pikes  and 
crowbars,  declaring  that  he  should  be  arrested  in  due 
form  for  trial  and  impeachment,  but  demanding  as  a 
condition  that  a  guard  be  selected  who  would  swear  to 
defend  him  to  the  death.  Twenty-five  men,  workmen, 
students,  and  National  Guards,  came  forward  and  sol- 
emnly took  the  oath;  a  moment  later  the  door  opened 
and  Latour  stepped  out  into  the  corridor,  calmly,  as  if 
about  to  assume  the  chair  at  some  great  assemblage. 

"I  am  here,  meine  Kinder"  he  said,  quietly,  "a  man 
of  honor,  with  a  clear  conscience,  does  not  fear  either 
bayonets' or  daggers.  You  have  offered  to  guard  me. 
I  surrender  myself  into  your  hands!" 

A  roar  of  execration  was  the  only  reply.  The  depu- 
ties and  the  guard  closed  around  him  and  began  to  de- 
scend the  staircase,  closely  pressed  and  almost  suffocated 
by  the  mob.  Oaths,  yells,  and  threats  of  death  rang 
from  all  sides.  Some  of  the  guard  endeavored  to  protect 
their  prisoner,  but  the  most  part,  animated  by  the  worst 
intentions  and  anxious  only  to  prevent  his  escape,  added 
their  voices  to  the  storm  of  jeers  and  insults. 

Panting,  struggling,  forcing  towards  their  victim  from 
every  direction,  the  crowd  seethed  and  surged  around; 
hands  thrust  through  the  ring  of  men,  plucking  and  tear- 
ing at  him;  one  dashed  his  hat  over  his  eyes;  here  and 
there  clenched  fists  dealt  him  heavy  blows;  one  man, 
taller  than  the  rest,  leaned  over  and  slashed  him  across 
the  face  with  a  quadrupled  cord,  shouting,  "This  is  to 
hang  you  with!"  and  every  moment,  as  they  slowly  de- 
scended towards  the  court -yard,  some  defender  or  dep- 
uty was  torn  from  his  side  and  the  places  filled  by  im- 
placable monsters,  who  were  rapidly  losing  even  all 
human  semblance  in  their  bestial  ferocity. 

Shouts  of  savage  welcome  greeted  the  arrival  in  the 

88 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

court-yard  of  the  terrible  cortege.  "Hang  him!  Hang 
him!"  roared  the  mob.  Pushed,  pulled,  struck  at,  vio- 
lently passed  from  hand  to  hand  through  a  whirl  of 
bristling  weapons,  his  own  guard  now  foremost  among 
the  assailants,  the  unhappy  minister  was  thrust  up 
against  the  wall.  A  young  officer,  greatly  devoted  to 
him,  Captain  Count  de  Gondrecourt,  breaking  a  way 
through  the  maddened  throng,  flung  himself  before  his 
chief,  vainly  defending  him  with  his  bare  hands,  but  he 
was  torn  off  and  cast  aside,  like  an  importunate  child 
too  insignificant  to  punish/  and  there  was  no  further 
protection  for  Count  Latour.  One  assassin  cut  at  him 
with  a  sabre,  another  struck  him  a  fearful  blow  with  a 
crowbar;  hammers,  pikes,  bayonets,  musket-butts  de- 
scended upon  him.  Dashed  to  the  ground  by  a  tem- 
pest of  blows,  trampled  by  the  feet  of  the  mob,  and 
literally  torn  limb  from  limb  by  rending  hands,  he  was 
yet  seen  to  snatch  at  a  bayonet  which  was  thrust  into  his 
thigh.  Still  living,  he  was  dragged  through  pools  of  his 
own  blood  and  hanged  to  a  window-bar.  What  was  left 
of  his  mangled,  shredded  body  fell  when  the  cord  broke, 
and  the  last  spark  of  life  was  trodden  out  by  furious 
market-women,  stamping  with  demoniacal  laughter 
upon  that  palpitating,  mutilated  thing,  which  had  been 
one  of  God's  grandest,  noblest  creatures. 

His  clothing,  torn  to  bits  already,  was  collected  for 
souvenirs,  handkerchiefs  were  dipped  in  his  blood,  and, 
until  late  at  night,  the  naked  and  hideously  mangled 
trunk  swung  by  the  neck  from  a  lamp-post,  an  object  of 
insult  for  the  populace  and  a  target  for  the  bullets  of  the 
National  Guard.  Thus  died  an  honorable  gentleman, 
whose  only  offences  were  his  loyalty  to  his  sovereign  and 
his  dauntless  courage. 

At  Schonbrunn  the  consternation  was  great.  All  was 
hurry  and  bustle  for  immediate  departure.     Ferdinand, 

89 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ill  and  helpless  as  usual,  looked  like  a  beaten  child,  and 
avoided  the  eye  of  his  young  nephew,  whose  ardent  soul 
chafed  at  the  inaction  into  which  he  .was  forced.  Poor 
Archduke  Franz !  He  implored  to  be  allowed  to  join  the 
troops  and  throw  himself  at  the  throat  of  that  tower- 
ing spectre  of  revolution  which  was  having  it  all  its  own 
way  at  Vienna,  and  when  this  request  was  refused  he 
positively  sickened  with  despair,  and  with  the  hungry, 
unsatisfied  desire  to  fight,  and  to  be  of  use,  instead  of 
sitting  at  home  like  a  frightened  woman. 

When,  finally,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
Court  departed  under  strong  military  escort  to  take 
refuge  in  the  fortress  of  Olmutz,  he  yielded  to  his  uncle's 
agonized  entreaties  and  rode  beside  the  Imperial  car- 
riage mile  after  mile  in  the  gray  dawn,  trying  by  his  pres- 
ence to  reassure  and  console  the  broken-spirited  old  man 
moaning  and  muttering  prayers  on  the  silken  cushions 
inside. 

That  terrible  journey,  in  the  teeth  of  a  furious  storm 
of  wind  and  rain,  remained  like  some  ghastly  nightmare 
upon  the  mind  of  Archduke  Franz.  Water  fell  in  sheets 
from  the  leaden  skies,  hiding  the  whole  landscape  and 
filling  the  air  with  masses  of  gray  vapor.  In  places  the 
road  was  barely  passable,  for  the  smallest  brooks  had 
suddenly  swollen  to  regular  torrents,  sweeping  away  the 
grassy  banks  and  turning  everything  to  liquid  mud. 

As  the  day  advanced  the  gloom  deepened  amid  an 
increasing  sound  of  splashing  water,  that  muffled  the 
noise  of  the  carriage-wheels  and  the  stamping  of  the 
horses'  hoofs.  Soon  the  fog  and  the  darkness  compelled 
the  fugitives  to  advance  more  cautiously  and  slowly,  so 
that  hours  followed  hours,  and  became  a  long,  slow  tort- 
ure to  the  Emperor,  and  an  unceasing  weariness  to  all 
those  who  were  with  him. 

At  last  the  fortress  was  reached,  and  the  Emperor, 

90 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

who  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  had  experienced  true 
discomfort  and  real,  crushing  bodily  fatigue,  broke  down 
completely  as  he  was  assisted  to  alight.  In  spite  of  the 
lateness  of  the  hour  the  young  Archduke  seated  himself 
beside  the  bed  whereon  his  Imperial  uncle  had  hurriedly 
been  placed,  and  now  cowered,  lost  in  lamentation  and 
almost  delirious  with  exhaustion  and  remorse. 

Outside  the  storm  still  raged  furiously,  growing  wild- 
er and  wilder  as  the  night  advanced.  The  wind  beat 
against  the  massive  walls  of  the  fortress  and  shrieked 
like  a  tortured  soul  through  the  endless  windings  of  the 
stone-flagged  passages  and  corridors,  echoes  of  thunder 
now  and  again  sounded  like  salvoes  of  artillery,  while  the 
blue-and-purple  glance  of  lightning  shot  through  the 
chinks  of  the  thick  curtains  drawn  before  the  windows. 
But  the  tumult  in  Archduke  Franz's  heart  was  far  more 
terrible  than  that  which  was  abroad  over  the  little  town- 
ship of  Olmutz.  Vainly  he  strove  to  console  and  com- 
fort his  wretched  charge,  vainly  he  tried  to  reason  with 
his  own  misery  and  anger !  Stiff  with  fatigue  in  his  chair, 
scarcely  moving,  except  when  he  bent  over  the  stricken 
Emperor  to  dose  him  with  soothing  potions,  he  felt  the 
torture  of  a  great  shame  and  a  great  disappointment. 

It  was  his  first  experience  of  mental  pain,  and  he  im- 
agined that  all  joy,  all  hope  was  being  trampled  to  death 
within  his  heart  by  its  intensity,  and  felt  as  if  years  must 
elapse  before  strength  was  once  more  given  to  him  to 
gather  up  his  moral  courage.  His  imagination  dwelt 
persistently  upon  the  scenes  described  by  the  few  im- 
perialists who  had  witnessed  the  cowardly  assassination 
of  Latour.  He  saw  incessantly  a  maddened  mob  tearing 
and  rending  the  body  of  that  brave  soldier  whom  he  had 
known  and  loved,  and  he  felt  sick,  as  a  man  may  feel 
sick  at  some  revolting  sight,  his  flesh  shuddered,  and  he 
loathed  himself  for  having  consented  to  come  away,  for 

91 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

having  shared  a  flight  which  he  considered  as  too  humili- 
ating to  be  borne,  and  degrading  beyond  anything  a 
monarch  could  have  done.  He  thought  bitterly  of  Louis 
XVI.  running  away  from  the  scaffold,  a  deed  he  had  al- 
ways looked  upon  with  contempt,  and  smothered  a  curse 
through  his  clenched  teeth.  Why  not  face  danger,  risk, 
peril  ?  Would  not  certain  doom  have  been  far  easier  to 
bear  than  remorse  and  shame  ?  Why  not  show  a  bold 
front  and  emulate  those  other  people  of  the  Terror  who 
did  not  run  away,  and  who  walked  up  the  slippery,  crim- 
soned steps  of  the  guillotine  with  smiling  lips  and  chal- 
lenging, undaunted,  unflinching  eyes?  Why  not  "faire 
son  metier  de  Roy  ?" — why  not  ?  Ah !  why  not  show  this 
frenzied  canaille  that  fear  is  not  numbered  among  the 
hereditary  vices  with  which  monarchs  are  credited  ?  Was 
the  Imperial  ermine  growing  too  heavy  for  modern  shoul- 
ders, were  the  orb  and  the  sceptre  no  longer  in  harmony 
with  the  time? 

The  lad  writhed  at  the  thought,  and  cold  perspiration 
stood  thick  on  his  puckered  brow.  Surely  there  could 
not  be  on  the  face  of  the  earth  a  man  so  weak,  so  guilty, 
so  pusillanimous  as  his  uncle,  he,  one  of  the  chief  rulers 
of  the  world,  in  whose  stewardship  the  fate  of  fair  lands 
and  loyal  peoples  had  been  placed.  Was  the  immensity 
of  his  responsibilities  only  equalled,  then,  by  the  bound- 
lessness of  his  incapacity  ? — was  he  fit  only  to  lie  secure  in 
a  satin-lined  shelter?  Why  had  he  been  selected,  pre- 
ordained to  meet  with  the  frightful  exigencies  of  the  pres- 
ent situation,  he  who  seemed  to  appreciate  of  the  throne 
naught  save  its  soft,  velvet  upholstery  and  the  immuni- 
ties it  gave  him  ?  What  would  become  of  the  monarchy, 
aye,  of  the  country  itself,  in  such  palsied  hands? 

To  the  young  man  keeping  vigil  through  the  watches 
of  that  appalling  night,  the  power  and  might  and  glory 
of  the  House  of  Habsburg  had,  since  the  cradle,  been  a 

92 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

religion,  a  creed,  a  faith.  He  was  certainly  not  ambitious 
for  himself,  but  he  burned  to  give  all  the  years  of  his  life 
to  the  service  of  the  monarchy  created  by  Rudolph  I.  so 
many  centuries  ago,  and  which  had  been  ever  a  proud 
and  a  noble  one^ 

"L'Etat,  c'est  moi!"  would  never  be  his  maxim,  but 
he  was  beyond  measure  resentful  and  infuriated  when 
his  eyes  fell  upon  the  man  shivering  on  the  bed  beside 
the  chair  where  he  himself  writhed  with  humiliation, 
and  who  went  many  steps  further  than  that  and  cared 
apparently  not  a  straw  what  became  of  the  State  so  long 
as  he,  the  Emperor,  need  sacrifice  not  a  whit  of  his  com- 
fort or  peace  in  screening  it  from  harm.  What  a  cruel, 
senseless  thing  was  destiny ! 

Again  he  glanced  at  the  tear-flushed  face  upon  the 
lace-bordered  pillows,  and  as  he  did  so  he  drew  a  long 
breath  of  relief,  for  Ferdinand  at  last  was  asleep.  A 
ray  from  the  night-lamp  fell  upon  the  swollen  features, 
showing  the  still  trembling  mouth  and  nervously  quiver- 
ing eyelids. 

Very  softly  the  self-appointed  nurse  drew  the  gold- 
brocaded  bed-curtain  between  the  sleeper  and  the  faint, 
rosy  light,  and  was  on  the  point  of  retreating  on  tip- 
toe from  the  room,  when  a  small  side  door  noiselessly 
unclosed  and  his  mother  entered.  She  was  very  pale, 
and  there  was  a  suggestion  of  a  tremor  about  her  firm 
lips.  She  went  a  step  nearer  to  him,  the  folds  of  her 
loose  gown  of  soft,  white  wool  trailing  noiselessly  on  the 
thick  carpet. 

"Come!"  she  whispered.  Her  imperious  manner  was 
a  little  less  so  than  usual,  perchance  there  was  a  tiny 
suspicion  of  tremor  in  her  lowered  voice,  too.  He  obeyed 
eagerly,  and  followed  her  through  the  dimly  lighted 
passages  to  her  own  apartments,  where  shaded  lamps 
and  great  baskets  of  mountain-flowers,  placed  there  by 

93 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

her  orders — for  she,  too,  in  her  cold,  strange,  unemotional 
way,  loved  all  the  blossoms  that  bloom,  and  was  seldom 
without  some  fragrant  cluster  or  bouquet  about  her — 
relieved  the  severity  of  the  tapestried  walls  and  stiff  fur- 
niture of  carved  ebony  and  palisander.  She  signed  to 
him  to  sit  down,  and  with  the  caressing  grace  she  used 
with  him  alone,  and  that  but  rarely,  she  tilted  his  face 
upward  and  looked  into  his  eyes;  but  much  of  the  im- 
potent rage  which  had  racked  him  during  the  past  hours 
still  lingered  in  their  blue  depths,  and  he  rose  abruptly, 
as  if  dreading  her  scrutinizing  gaze. 

The  Archduchess  understood  very  well  the  strife  which 

if 

went  on  in  his  soul,  the  impulse  for  expression  which 
could  scarcely  be  resisted,  and  which  would,  if  yielded 
to,  lay  his  innermost  feelings  bare  to  her,  and  also  the 
iron  restraint  he  was  endeavoring  to  keep  upon  himself 
touched  a  certain  chord  in  her  mind,  a  certain  pulse  in 
her  heart,  as  nothing  else  could  have  done.  She  mo- 
tioned him  back  to  his  chair. 

"Franz,  hear  me  a  moment,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone, 
through  which  there  ran  an  unwonted  thrill  of  passionate 
tenderness.  '  You  have  long  known  that  the  Crown  of 
the  Habsburgs  is  to  be  yours;  lately  you  have  been  in 
a  position  to  judge  how  ill  your  uncle  can  cope  with  his 
almost  insurmountable  difficulties,  and  although  you 
have  concealed  it  well,  yet  I  have  noticed  how  im- 
measurable is  your  scorn  for  his  weakness!"  For  a  fleet- 
ing instant  a  gleam  of  admiration  passed  into  her  eyes. 
"  You  are  now  a  man  in  the  full  acceptance  of  the  word," 
she  continued,  pride  vibrating  in  her  every  accent,  "and 
I  will  force  your  uncle  to  abdicate  in  your  favor,  to  re- 
linquish into  your  hands  the  reins  of  government  he  is 
incapable  of  wielding;  for  you,  and  you  alone,  can  save 
Austria!" 

As  she  spoke,  a  vivid,  palpitating,  intoxicating  hope 

94 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

slowly  dawned  in  the  boy's  eyes.  He  foresaw  in  a  flash 
all  the  loss  of  freedom,  of  "joie  de  vivre,"  which  would 
be  entailed  on  him  by  the  assumption  of  the  weighty 
Dual  Crown ;  he  realized  that  as  his  uncle's  successor  his 
future  would  be  neither  peaceful  nor  easy;  but  the  hot, 
hope-inspiring  blood  of  youth  was  surging  madly  in  his 
veins  and  rendered  him  willing  to  set  no  limits  to  the 
sacrifices  which  his  Imperial  duties  would  exact  from 
him.  He  loathed  the  veulerie  of  the  times,  and  longed 
for  the  means  to  prove  that  the  old,  fearless,  high-hand- 
ed, single-hearted,  loyal,  and  pure  devotion  to  duty, 
which  sees  in  the  whole  teeming  universe  but  one  task 
to  accomplish  and  but  one  straight  and  worthy  way  of 
accomplishing  it,  lived  still  in  the  breast  of  at  least  one 
monarch. 

The  evanescent  breath  of  his  noble  purpose  passed 
like  the  cool  breeze  of  an  April  morn,  sweet  with  the 
scent  of  meadow  blossoms,  across  the  stormy,  passion- 
heated  atmosphere  of  the  room,  and  seemed  to  influence 
the  Archduchess's  meditations,  for  her  next  sentence 
was  colored  by  his  thoughts  more  than  by  her  own,  as  if 
she  had  listened  to  his  silence. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  gently,  "you  will  be  a  great  Emper- 
or, my  son.  You  will  show  the  world  what  a  monarch 
can  be,  and  what  infinite  good  he  can  work  for  his  peo- 
ple, but" — and  here  she  hesitated  a  little — "in  order  to 
achieve  this  you  must  not  throw  down  your  heart  like 
a  naked,  trembling,  panting  thing,  to  be  played  with 
and  trampled  upon  by  that  very  world.  You  are  just 
now  under  the  influence  of  a  great  exaltation  and  ready 
to  give  freely  all  your  future,  to  fling  away  all  personal 
interest  for  the  honor  and  preservation  of  your  House, 
and  to  ask  nothing  more  of  earth  and  heaven  than  to 
fully  and  brilliantly  accomplish  this  heavy  task.  That 
vision  of  what  may  be  dazzles  you  as  the  mirage  of  a 

95 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

green  oasis  blinds  the  desert  pilgrim,  but  I,  with  chillier 
prescience,  can,  alas,  foresee  the  weariness  behind  the 
charm,  and  the  heaviness  of  the  yoke  you  are  about 
to  assume." 

This  momentary  compassion,  this  apparent  desire  to 
draw  him  back  on  the  very  brink  of  resolve,  was,  per- 
chance, the  cleverest  thing  which  that  extraordinarily 
clever  woman  had  ever  done.  To  demurely  point  out 
to  the  enthusiastic,  excited  boy,  difficulties  and  obstacles, 
was,  in  his  present  mood,  nothing  short  of  a  challenge, 
an  open  hint,  a  doubt  as  to  his  steadfastness  and  power 
of  renunciation,  a  doubt,  she  realized  perfectly  well,  that 
he  would* not  endure,  a  challenge  he  would  unhesitatingly 
accept. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  face  colorless,  his  mouth  set, 
and  caught  her  wrist  in  his  cold  fingers. 

"There  is  no  need,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  concentrated 
voice,  "to  be  afraid  for  me.  You  say  that  His  Majesty 
is  willing  to  abdicate  in  my  favor;  let  him  do  so,  I  am 
ready  to  relieve  him  of  his  charge  now,  at  once,  and  to 
assume  all  the  penalties  that  go  with  it!" 

A  faint,  almost  imperceptible  smile  of  triumph  trem- 
bled on  the  lips  of  the  able  king-maker  at  his  side,  but  he 
did  not  notice  it,  for  he  was  in  that  state  of  mental  ten- 
sion where  elusive  smiles  and  delicate  diplomacy  pass 
unrecognized.  His  mother  had  stung  and  humiliated 
him  profoundly,  but  he  did  not  know  that  she  had  played 
him  as  a  good  angler  plays  a  trout. 

He  had  little  vanity,  but  still  he  knew  himself  to  be 
one  of  those  who  can  carry  through  a  resolve,  whatever 
it  is,  to  the  very  end  without  wincing;  he  knew,  also, 
that  he  was  no  mere  child  to  be  treated  with  pitying 
indulgence  and  warned  of  every  pitfall.  This,  too,  com- 
ing from  the  only  living  being  who  had  a  real  knowledge 
of   him,  made   his  white  cheeks  suddenly  flame  with 

96 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

mortification,  and  cast  a  shadow  of  perplexity  upon  his 
eyes.  Had  he  but  been  able  to  see  clearly,  he  would 
have  perceived  that  his  mother  was  in  an  absolute 
ecstasy  of  pride  and  delight,  surely  in  itself  a  startling 
thing  in  so  cold  and  self-controlled  a  woman. 

She  was  intolerant  of  illusions  as  a  rule,  but  her  son's 
present  illusive  mood  served  her  purpose  admirably, 
and,  moreover,  she,  perchance,  remembered  the  old 
saying  which  states  that  "  les  illusions  sont  des  zeros, 
mais  c'est  avec  les  zeros  qu'on  fait  les  beaux  chiffres!" 
But  now,  almost  in  the  moment  of  her  triumph,  a  keen, 
unexpected  sense  of  regret  arose  in  her — strange,  indeed, 
in  one  who  having  put  a  hand  to  the  plough  never  looked 
backward.  Nevertheless,  her  indescribable  air  of  indif- 
ference and  disdain  suddenly  disappeared,  and  with  a 
gentle,  caressing  movement  she  drew  him  towards  her, 
actuated  by  this  sudden  weakness,  this  sudden  yearning 
and  wistful  desire  that  all  she  had  done  to  secure  him  the 
throne  had  been  left  unaccomplished,  that  her  boy  could 
still  remain  all  her  own,  and  the  kiss  she  gave  him  was 
that  of  a  mere  loving,  anxious  mother.  "My  own  dar- 
ling!" she  murmured. 

The  words  escaped  her  unawares,  and  when  they  were 
uttered  she  longed  to  recall  them.  This  was  not  the 
time  for  demonstrative  affection,  least  of  all  from  a 
woman  such  as  she;  and,  straightening  herself  to  her 
full  height  and  casting  off  her  softer  mood  with  a  little 
shake  of  the  shoulders,  habitual  to  her  when  she  had, 
as  she  called  it,  "caught  herself  napping,"  she  resumed 
her  explanation,  as  had  this  little  tender  interlude  been 
a  trifle  beneath  notice: 

"As  I  have  just  told  you,  I  long  since  approached  your 

uncle  on  the  subject  of  his  abdication;   to  be  exact,  I 

spoke  to  him  very  decidedly  about  the  matter  last  May, 

when  he  was  still  under  the  impression  produced  by  the 

7  97 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

March  riots,  and  he  promised  me  then" — she  halted  im- 
perceptibly— "to  make  this  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  the 
country's  safety.  Since  that  time  I  have  continually 
held  this  promise  before  his  eyes,  and  the  events  of  the 
last  few  days  will  undoubtedly  lead  him  to  fulfil  it  now." 

"Did  he  consider  it  in  the  light  of  a  sacrifice?"  Arch- 
duke Franz  said,  quietly,  and  without  a  hint  of  sarcasm. 

The  Archduchess's  eyes  opened  a  little  wider,  but  her 
answer  to  this  inconvenient  question  was  delivered  in  a 
perfectly  calm  and  secure  tone. 

"Oh,  you  see,  no  man  desires  to  suffer  more  keenly 
than  is  absolutely  necessary,  your  uncle  Ferdinand  least 
of  all,  -Und  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  has  debated  the 
amount  of  pain  to  be  avoided  or  endured  that  hangs  in 
the  balance  of  his  decision  against  or  for  an  abdication ; 
but,  taking  it  all  in  all,  I  think  that  the  result  of  his  in- 
ward debates  is  a  foregone  conclusion." 

The  young  Archduke's  powers  of  self-restraint  must 
just  then  have  amazed  even  the  mother  who  had  instilled 
them  into  him.  His  eyes  were  fixed  steadily  upon  her, 
his  lips  were  slightly  parted,  and  his  attitude  indicated 
careful  attention,  but,  save  for  the  fact  that  a  few  tiny 
beads  of  moisture  still  glistened  on  his  forehead,  he 
gave  no  sign  of  agitation  or  even  of  unusual  interest  in 
what  she  said.  And  yet  he  was  being  called  upon  not 
only  to  take  that  active  part  which  he  had  dreamed 
of  and  longed  for,  but  actually  to  assume  full  control 
of  affairs,  and  to  shoulder  responsibilities  a  great  deal 
heavier  than  those  which  had  staggered  and  unseated 
the  great  Metternich  himself!  But  after  the  first  flush 
of  surprise,  called  forth  by  news  he  had  never  even  sus- 
pected and  for  which  he  was  totally  unprepared,  he  be- 
trayed neither  qualms  nor  enthusiasms.  This,  indeed, 
was  a  man! 

Youth  has  a  cunning  magic  peculiar  and  enviable 

98 


FRANCIS-JOSEPH    IN    1848 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

which  can  be  replaced  by  nothing  else  in  the  world,  for  it 
grants  its  possessor  a  quick  and  kaleidoscopic  adapta- 
bility which  makes  everything  easy  in  comparison  to  the 
inalterable  habitude  of  maturer  age.  Already,  in  the  in- 
stinctive throwing  back  of  the  shoulders  and  holding  up 
of  the  finely  shaped  head,  this  youth,  who  but  a  few  short 
minutes  before  had  been  a  mere  unit — more  gifted  than 
the  rest,  it  is  true — in  a  numerous  Imperial  family,  a  boy 
exasperated  by  circumstances,  smarting  beneath  the 
constraint  put  upon  him  by  the  timorous  chief  of  both 
his  House  and  his  country,  already  bore  himself  like  a 
sovereign  of  twice  his  years  and  a  hundred  times  his 
experience.  There  was  no  boastfulness  in  his  attitude, 
not  a  trace  of  pose  or  of  affectation  in  this  curious  and 
immediate  outward  assumption  of  responsibility  and 
care ;  evidently  emanating  from  the  fulness  of  the  strong- 
ly beating  young  heart,  the  swiftly  working  brain,  eager 
to  go  at  once  on  duty  and  to  direct  the  rescue  of  Crown 
and  Fatherland. 

Archduchess  Sophia  sat  still  as  a  statue,  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  him;  then  she  laughed — a  soft,  victorious  laugh. 

"Speaking  in  all  moderation,"  she  declared,  "I  think 
that  I  may  rely  wholly  upon  you  to  be  what  I  have  al- 
ways prayed  you  should  be — a  great  ruler." 

He  looked  at  her  gravely,  then  smiled  and  said,  very 
slowly,  with  an  effect  supremely  impersonal,  "I  may  at 
least  promise  you  that  I  will  do  the  uttermost  in  my 
power  to  revive  and  maintain  the  Habsburg  traditions." 

The  Archduchess  had  slipped  an  emerald  ring  from 
her  finger,  and  was  twirling  it  round  in  the  palm  of  her 
hand. 

"We  have  had  tawdry  imitations  on  the  throne,  which 
were  as  different  from  the  old  Habsburgs  as  pinchbeck  is 
from  gold,"  she  mused  aloud,  glancing  obliquely  at  him, 
"but  you  are  genuine,  Franz;  thank  God  for  that!  since 

99 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

your  occasion  has  come  at  last,  and  unseen  hands  are 
pushing  you  towards  a  glorious  destiny." 

He  did  not  speak,  he  did  not  look  at  her,  but  he  caught 
his  breath  audibly,  a  long,  tremulous  breath ! 

Suddenly  the  Archduchess's  pale,  grave  face  leaped 
into  light  and  color,  her  eyes  blazed,  and  moved  seem- 
ingly by  an  inexplicable  impulse — for  the  silence  had 
apparently  remained  quite  unbroken  save  by  that  low, 
tremulous  sigh — she  rose  swiftly,  ran  lightly  across  the 
room,  and,  tearing  aside  the  heavy  tapestry,  bared  to 
view  the  dark,  narrow  opening  of  a  sliding  door  in  the 
wall,  and  standing  within  it  the  cowering  figure  of  no 
less  a  personage  than  Empress  Maria-Anna  herself. 

This  was  a  serious  discovery,  a  terribly  embarrassing 
one  at  any  rate,  and  Archduke  Franz  fell  back  against 
the  tapestried  wall  with  an  exclamation  of  supreme  as- 
tonishment. Not  so  Archduchess  Sophia,  who  possessed 
one  of  those  contradictory  natures  which  never  take  a 
situation  as  one  would  expect  it  to  be  taken,  and  who, 
instead  of  exploiting  the  dramatic  possibilities  of  the 
present  one  at  the  expense  of  the  enemy,  said,  with  the 
utmost  calmness :  "Ah,  I  thought  I  heard  a  rat.  Pardon 
me,  my  dear,  for  this  unflattering  mistake.  Pray  come 
in  and  form  one  of  our  little  council." 

Maria-Anna  glanced  at  her  terrible  sister-in-law  with 
reproachful,  tragic  eyes,  and  would  have  fled  had  not  the 
Archduchess  prevented  this  by  grasping  her  hand  and 
leading  her  gently  but  inexorably  to  a  chair  by  the  now 
almost  extinguished  fire. 

Though  nominally  mistress  of  all  the  Imperial  palaces 
of  Austro- Hungary,  and  supposed  by  the  ignorant  to  lead 
her  weak,  vacillating  husband  by  a  silken  thread,  Em- 
press Maria- Anna  held  both  housewifely  and  wifely  reins 
with  a  slack  hand,  and  under  her  management  matters 
had  gone  hopelessly  to  the  bad  in  her  domain.     She  had 

IOO 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

nothing  in  common  with  the  brave,  resolute,  self-reliant 
Sophia,  of  whom  she  stood  in  dumb,  nameless  awe.  In- 
deed, the  latter  had  once  or  twice  spoken  such  blightingly 
plain  truths  to  Ferdinand's  self-indulgent,  indolent  con- 
sort, and  presented  her  with  such  jagged  and  uncom- 
fortable "pieces  of  her  mind,"  that  she  had  been  thrown 
into  violent  hysterics,  and  had  subsequently  implored 
her  lord  to  send  "  diese  Sophia"  about  her  business,  and 
far  away  from  the  Hofburg  or  Schonbrunn.  But  this 
was  easier  said  than  done,  and  he  knew  far  too  well  what 
manner  of  an  enemy  Sophia  could  become  on  provoca- 
tion to  even  attempt  carrying  out  his  wife's  tearful  wishes. 

So  the  Empress  always  avoided  her  autocratic  sister- 
in-law  most  scrupulously ;  and  when  absolutely  forced  to 
communicate  with  her  upon  private  matters,  invariably 
did  so  through  the  priestly  intervention  of  her  father- 
confessor,  a  shrewd  and  sagacious  man,  who,  she  con- 
sidered, was  far  more  able  to  cope  with  her  than  she  her- 
self was. 

Now,  however,  she  was  face  to  face  with  the  being  she 
feared  most  in  the  world,  and  under  what  circumstances! 
What  could  the  masterful  and  unforgiving  Archduchess 
mean  to  do  with  her  ?  What  dire  punishment  lurked  be- 
hind that  pretence  of  welcome,  that  delicately  scornful 
smile,  that  eye  that  had  "marked  her  coming,  and  looked 
brighter  when  she  came,"  in  spite  of  the  manner  of  that 
appearance  ? 

The  calm  of  the  dim,  sweet-scented  old  chamber  seem- 
ed surcharged  with  menace.  Shivering  with  cold  and 
fright,  the  wretched  Empress  bent  over  the  dying  embers, 
feigning  to  warm  her  shaking  fingers  at  flames  "shin- 
ing solely  by  their  absence,"  as  the  French  put  it,  while 
the  amazed  Archduke  stood  immovable,  looking  down 
at  the  carpet.  Archduchess  Sophia  alone  preserved  her 
equanimity  as  absolutely  as  if  her  Imperial  sister-in-law 

IOI 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

had  merely  dropped  in  for  a  cheery  morning  visit,  instead 
of  having  been  thus  caught  eavesdropping  under  pecul- 
iarly suspicious  and  inconvenient  circumstances. 

Sophia  sank  into  a  chair  facing  her,  leaned  back  with 
careless  grace  on  some  cushions,  and,  gazing  mockingly 
at  her,  asked,  serenely,  "Well,  now,  tell  me,  my  dear, 
quite  frankly,  what  do  you  think  of  our  little  project?" 

Maria- Anna  shrank  into  the  utmost  corner  of  her  seat, 
and  her  frightened,  imploring  eyes  began  to  dilate  with 
abject  terror  before  her  arch-enemy's  unexpected  and  tan- 
talizing gentleness,  a  sweetness  far  more  terrible  to  those 
who  knew  Sophia  well  than  any  of  her  most  violent  out- 
bursts would  have  been. 

"Well!"  repeated  the  latter,  playing  with  the  tassel  of 
a  cushion,  her  eyes  glowing  maliciously. 

A  groan  escaped  the  Empress's  white  lips. 

"Reflect  for  a  moment,  if  you  have  not  as  yet  had 

time  to  co-ordinate  your  ideas,"  continued  the  merciless 

Archduchess,    assuming  a  tone  wholly   argumentative. 

'The  day  is  young  yet,  for,  lazier  than  we,  the  sun  still 

slumbers." 

Maria-Anna  tried  to  speak,  but  in  vain;  her  tongue 
was  cleaving  to  the  roof  of  her  mouth,  and  with  an  en- 
couraging smile  her  tormentor  said,  in  a  more  and 
more  ominously  coaxing  manner,  "  I  see !  No  doubt  you 
would  prefer  to  speak  to  me  alone.  Why  did  not  you 
say  so  at  once?"  Then,  turning  to  the  worried  and  puz- 
zled Archduke,  she  added,  softly,  "Will  you  go  and 
wait  for  me  in  my  bedroom,  Franz?  I  will  be  with 
you  directly." 

He  glanced  at  his  mother  a  little  wistfully,  as  if  he  did 
not  quite  understand  or  like  this  move,  but  he  knew  her 
too  well  to  resist,  and,  bowing  low  before  the  Empress, 
who  looked  at  this  moment  anything  but  Imperial  or 
imposing,  he  went  without  a  word. 

I02 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Outside  both  rain  and  wind  were  still  raging,  and,  al- 
though it  was  now  past  three  o'clock,  there  was  not  even 
a  hint  of  dawn  to  be  seen  through  the  heavy  clouds 
shouldering  each  other  above  the  horizon,  and  the  air 
was  so  raw  that  when  the  Archduchess  threw  open  a 
window  for  an  instant,  to  clear  the  heavy  atmosphere  of 
the  room,  the  tempest  burst  in  with  a  roar  like  that  of 
unchained  wild  beasts,  and  it  took  all  her  strength  to 
close  it  again. 

She  herself  confessed  when,  long  afterwards,  she  re- 
lated the  scene,  having  been  glad  of  this  short  buffet 
with  an  insensate  force,  for  at  that  moment  all  that 
was  most  cruel,  most  intolerant,  most  tyrannical  in  her 
was  aroused,  and  she  was  in  the  humor  to  hurt  some- 
thing; the  first  thing  that  came  within  the  grasp  of 
her  hand.  Of  a  truth,  the  bantering,  mocking  mood, 
which  she  had  constrained  herself  to  adopt  before  her 
son,  was  at  an  end  now,  and  when  she  turned  from  the 
window,  after  her  victorious  encounter  with  the  elements, 
her  eyes  were  full  of  scorn  and  of  command  as  she  looked 
haughtily  at  the  cringing  figure  still  huddled  over  the  al- 
most cold  cinders. 

"What  possessed  you  to  spy  upon  me?"  she  said,  con- 
temptuously, advancing  a  step  or  two. 

"I  did  not  come  to  spy  upon  you,"  murmured  the 
wretched,  demoralized  Empress. 

"No,  your  presence  behind  this  secret  door,  or  rather 
within  it,  for  you  knew  of  it — which  is  more  than  I  did — 
and  you  had,  no  doubt,  to  work  some  complicated  piece 
of  machinery  in  order  to  open  it,  was  quite  fortuitous; 
you  will  have  me  believe,  no  doubt,  that  you  were  merely 
promenading  inside  the  wall  long  after  three  in  the 
morning,  and  that  quite  by  chance — bah!  You  are  but 
a  poor  liar,  after  all." 

Before   that   remorseless   scrutiny,   those   cold,   level 

103 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

tones,  that  cut  like  the  lashes  of  a  knout,  Maria-Anna 
was  paralyzed.  She  colored,  grew  pale  again,  hesitated, 
tried  to  speak,  failed,  and  became  absolutely  unable  to 
keep  down  the  tremor  which  shook  her  like  an  ague. 
The  physical  fear  which  Sophia's  anger  always  inspired 
in  her,  now  overwhelmed  her  with  tenfold  intensity, 
and  assuredly  a  much  more  courageous  person  than  she 
might  well  have  shrunk  from  the  prospect  of  being 
shut  up  with  this  dangerously  infuriated  woman,  who 
could  neither  be  deceived  nor  softened,  and  who  was 
known  to  have  a  hand  of  iron  when  offended  or  in- 
jured— swift  to  punish  and  slow  to  relent. 

In  the  momentary  silence  which  followed,  Archduchess 
Sophia,  holding  her  victim  with  her  eye  the  while,  re- 
viewed the  situation  with  swift,  concerted  thoughts,  and 
to  herself  admitted  defeat.  Of  ultimate  success  she 
did  not  doubt,  but  she  knew  that  any  information  pos- 
sessed by  the  Empress  was  speedily  transmitted  to  quar- 
ters where  sufficient  power  resided  to  delay  the  execution 
of  her  schemes.  Had  the  unbidden  participant  in  her 
counsels  been  any  other  person,  she  would  have  found 
means  to  insure  silence,  but  though  confident  that  the 
power  she  could  exert  over  the  weak,  frightened  woman 
before  her  was  equal  to  extracting  any  promise,  she  com- 
prehended too  well  the  stuff  of  which  Maria-Anna  was 
made  to  expect  that  she  would  adhere  to  her  word.  A 
promise  of  secrecy  she,  nevertheless,  decided  to  obtain, 
since  the  fact  of  its  being  subsequently  broken  would 
place  no  despicable  weapon  in  her  hands,  and,  further- 
more, she  resolved  to  make  her  defeat  on  this  occasion 
so  costly  to  her  antagonist  as  to  give  her  no  opportunity 
for  the  present  to  taste  the  sweets  of  her  temporary 
success. 

"Now,  my  dear,"  she  said,  at  length,  "the  rupture  of 
our  entente  cordiale" — here  she  laughed  her  little,  low, 

104 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

musical,  mocking  laugh — "lies  in  your  own  choice;  keep 
secret  what  you  have  heard  here  to-night,  even  from 
your  father-confessor;  refrain  from  meddling  with  af- 
fairs that  you  cannot  possibly  comprehend,  and  I  will, 
on  my  side,  remain  neutral  where  you  are  concerned. 
On  the  other  hand,  say  but  one  word  of  all  this  to  a 
living  soul,  and  you  will  indeed  have  reason  to  regret  it." 

The  words  were  pronounced  almost  lightly  sneeringly, 
slightingly,  and  without  especial  emphasis  and  accentu- 
ation, more  like  a  warning  to  a  timid  child  than  a  men- 
ace to  a  kindred  power,  and  their  seeming  moderation, 
compared  to  the  withering  anger  of  a  few  moments  be- 
fore, encouraged  Maria-Anna  to  break  at  last  her  trem- 
ulous silence. 

"For  pity's  sake,  Sophia,  do  not  talk  to  me  as  if 
I  were  a  common  spy.  I  mean  no  harm  to  you  or 
to  Franz;  but  cannot  you  see  that  what  you  propose 
would  cover  us  with  eternal  shame  and  reproach  in  the 
eyes  of  all  Europe?  Cannot  you  relent  towards  us?  Will 
nothing  but  our  disgrace  satisfy  you?"  she  concluded, 
hurriedly,  noticing  a  peculiar  smile  which  she  had  seen 
before  on  Sophia's  lips,  and  which  she  dreaded  like  a 
blow. 

"You  are  distressing  yourself  most  needlessly,"  the 
Archduchess  replied,  as  quietly  as  ever.  'You  cannot 
evade  me  nor  enlist  my  sympathies,  so  it  is  quite  useless 
to  try.  You  are  aware  that  I  am  not  overforbearing, 
and  that  I  will  not  tamely  submit  to  treachery,  or  sit  a 
silent  witness  to  perfidious  meddlings;  therefore,  be  ad- 
vised and  accept  my  terms,  such  as  they  are,  before  I  re- 
consider them,  and  offer  harsher  and  juster  ones." 

The  Empress  was  at  the  same  time  emboldened  and 
puzzled  by  the  restraint  in  tone  and  manner  of  her 
dreaded  foe.  "May — may — not  your  plans  entail  some 
— some  danger?     'Who  has  sown  the  wind  shall  reap 

I  OS 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  whirlwind,'  "  she  ventured,  with  timid  and  stupid 
sententiousness . 

Archduchess  Sophia  let  her  eyes  rest  on  her  sister-in- 
law  with  an  expression  of  half -contemptuous  pity,  half 
derision,  which  might  have  given  her  plentiful  food  for 
reflection  had  she  been  a  woman  who  ever  reflected. 

"You  possess  all  the  antique  virtues,  even  a  praise- 
worthy facility  in  Biblical  quotation,"  she  said,  with 
suave  sarcasm.  "Let  us  hope  that  you  number  among 
them  that  of  loyalty  to  a  promise,  for  assuredly  you  will 
not  leave  this  room  until  you  have  promised  to  keep 
silent  about  this  night's  performance — a  sorry  one,  as  far 
as  you  are*  concerned,  certainly,  and  of  which  you  can 
scarcely  be  proud.  An  Empress  might  at  least  employ 
an  agent  to  do  such  work,  and  not  stoop  to  it  herself!" 

"  All  is  fair  in  love  and  war.  I — I — I  was  only  fighting 
my  own  battle,  Sophia." 

Into  the  face  of  the  overbearing  Archduchess  came  a 
gleam  of  malicious  amusement,  crossed  with  surprise,  at 
this  unheard-of  pertinacity. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  you  should  really  make  a  con- 
scientious effort  to  be  a  little  less  foolhardy.  It  is  not 
your  usual  attitude,  and  you  know  what  our  French 
cousins  say:  '  Ne  forcez  pas  votre  talent;  vous  ne  feriez 
rien  avec  grace.'  " 

"I  cannot  promise  what  you  ask.  Why  should  I? 
Promises  are  sacred,"  contended  poor  Maria-Anna,  "and 
you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  it  would  be  a  sin  for  me  to 
hold  anything  back  from  my  father-confessor." 

"Ah,  nous  y  voila  done!"  Sophia  exclaimed.  "Has 
anybody  ever  heard  anything  that  sounded  so  bewilder- 
ingly  devoid  of  reason?  Not  content  with  confessing 
your  own  sins,  you  deem  it  your  duty  to  reveal  those 
which,  in  your  admirable  purity  of  motive,  you  accord  to 
your  neighbors.     I  sincerely  pity  your  confessor!     But, 

1 06 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

before  you  go  any  further,  would  it  not  be  better  to  cal- 
culate what  you  yourself  are  likely  to  lose  by  such  un- 
paralleled loyalty  to  Holy  Mother  Church?  For,  when 
you  have  done  this,  you  will  very  likely  thank  me  for 
claiming  and  enforcing  your  silence!" 

Maria-Anna  gazed  distressedly  into  space,  as  if  ap- 
pealing to  invisible  arbiters. 

"This  is  too,  too  cruel!"  she  moaned.  "Am  I  child 
without  discretion  that  I  should  be  treated  so?" 

"Oh,  you  are  very  far  from  being  a  child,  as  anybody 
looking  at  you  in  this  crude  morning  light  would  enthu- 
siastically vouch,"  retorted  the  other,  unable  for  once  to 
refrain  from  a  wholly  feminine  repartee,  which  made  the 
Empress  wince,  for  vanity  formed  a  large  part  of  her 
pampered,  flattery-loving  soul.  "And  now,"  continued 
the  imperturbable  Archduchess,  more  sternly,  "there 
must  be  no  more  talk  of  wanting  or  not  wanting  to  do  as 
you  are  told.  You  shall  do  what  I  wish,  and  that  at 
once!" 

"This  is  outrageous!"  exclaimed  the  other,  goaded  to 
renewed  pertinacity.  "How  long  do  you  expect  me  to 
keep  silent,  and  why  should  you  take  it  for  granted  that 
I  am  inclined  to  connive  at  your  plots?" 

"I  see  that  I  have  been  altogether  too  patient  with 
you,  my  dear  sister,  but" — Sophia  considered  a  moment 
— "but,  let  me  see — I  shall  be  very  moderate,  if  you  will 
be  so  good  as  to  refrain  from  future  impertinences — 
three  months  will  do.  After  three  months  I  will  allow 
you  to  give  full  play  to  your  diligent  tongue.  During 
those  three  months,  however,  you  must  not,  absolutely 
must  not,  breathe  a  word  to  anybody  of  our  little  pro- 
ject!" 

"Three  months!  Twelve  weeks!"  almost  screamed 
Maria-Anna. 

"Ninety  days,  to  put  it  commercially,"  commented 

107 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Sophia,  looking  at  the  coffered  ceiling  with  meditative 
eyes. 

The  Empress  held  up  her  hands  in  vehement  protest, 
and,  in  a  high,  agitated,  trembling  voice  that  belied  the 
astonishing  energy  of  her  words,  cried: 

"  You  can  do  what  you  please,  Sophia,  but  I  will  prom- 
ise you  nothing!  I  have  feared  you  greatly,  it  is  true, 
but  I  do  not  fear  you  any  longer,  whatever  you  may 
choose  to  do  to  me!" 

Archduchess  Sophia  gazed  at  her  with  undisguised 
amusement.  She  knew,  without  the  possibility  of  a  mis- 
take, that  this  was  but  a  momentary  flash  of  revolt,  and 
that  Maria- Anna,  no  more  than  Ferdinand,  would  dare  to 
resist  her  to  the  end,  and  this  little  flash  of  self-assertion 
on  her  prisoner's  part  seemed  very  droll  to  her. 

"Poor  Franz,  I  hope  he  fell  asleep  in  my  room!"  she 
murmured,  "  puisque  c'est  tout  a  recommencer.  I  am 
not  very  tolerant  of  defeat,"  she  continued,  louder, 
"although  I  may  have  to  swallow  it  at  some  future 
time,  but  that  time  is  not  yet.  I  invariably  contend 
that  what  one  wishes  to  accomplish  can  be  compassed 
sooner  or  later;  with  me  it  will  be  sooner,  that  is  all. 
Peste!  ma  chere,  a  crusade  against  me  embraced  by  you 
and  your  party  is  visionary  indeed!  I  had  hoped  better 
and  especially  far  wiser  things  from  you."  She  smiled, 
and  looked  over  to  the  rain-lashed  windows.  'The  gods 
have  showered  upon  you  their  fairy  gifts,  and  they  will 
be  too  merciful  to  those  who  look  upon  you  as  one  of  the 
greatest  acquisitions  the  Habsburgs  ever  made  to  let 
you  attempt  resisting  me  unhindered." 

The  Empress  had  braced  herself  to  withstand  the  fit  of 
rage  which  she  felt  certain  Sophia  would  treat  her  to 
when  she  found  herself  openly  defied;  but,  surprised  by 
the  continuance  of  this  suave,  calm  insolence,  crushed  by 
her  antagonist's  unruffled  air  of  mastery,  and,  above  all, 

ioS 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

too  frightened  and  humiliated  to  control  her  nerves,  she 
sank  back  upon  the  cushions  of  her  chair  and  burst  into 
tears. 

Archduchess  Sophia  rose  and  stood  over  her  with  a 
face  that  had  the  immutability  of  a  mask  of  stone.  She 
had  played  with  her  mouse  long  enough.  Now  she  would 
put  an  end  to  this  wearisome  scene,  and  when  she  spoke 
it  was  with  a  bitter  fierceness,  before  which  the  sobs  of 
the  ignominiously  detected  listener  died  into  silence. 

"  I  wish  no  more  words  between  us.  You  know  how 
basely  you  have  acted.  All  your  life  has  been  one  long 
eavesdropping;  this  last  and  supremely  disgraceful  deed 
committed  by  you,  an  Empress,  has  but  set  the  seal  upon 
your  shame,  in  my  eyes  at  least.  One  can  pardon  and 
understand  sin,  even  crime,  but  not  baseness.  A  daugh- 
ter of  kings  should  at  least  be  loyal  and  truthful  and 
brave.  You  are  none  of  these  things,  and  your  attempt 
at  resistance  just  now  was  a  mere  piece  of  comedy.  I 
know  you;  you  are  a  fit  mate  for  the  miserable  Rot 
faineant  you  married,  and  it  is  because  I  do  know  you 
bo'ih  so  well  that  I  mean  to  wrench  the  crown  from  you, 
who  have  sunk  so  despicably  low.  Were  your  honor  or 
Ferdinand's  honor  called  into  question,  I  would,  of  course, 
defend  it — as  I  would  that  of  any  of  the  Habsburgs — 
not  for  your  sakes,  but  merely  for  my  own,  since  from  my 
heart  I  despise  you  both.  And  now  I  have  trifled  much 
too  long  with  you.  Promise  me  cilence,  for  if  you  still 
refuse  you  will  rue  the  very  day  you  were  born!" 

Huddled  in  her  chair,  exhausted,  hysterical,  and  in- 
capable of  further  resistance,  Maria-Anna  faintly  mur- 
mured: 

"I  promise." 

"Do  you  mean  that?" 

"Yes." 

"  It  is  understood  that  by  this  promise  you  engage  not 

109 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

to  communicate  what  you  have  heard  to-night  to  any 
one,  by  writing  or  otherwise,  and  also  that  you  will  not 
act  upon  your  information,  is  it  not?" 

"Yes." 

"Ah,  I  am  glad  that  we  have  come  to  an  understand- 
ing. Will  you  permit  me  to  assist  you  to  the  door?  It 
is  day — after  a  fashion — and  you  must  be  tired." 

The  Empress  rose  limply.  Dazed  by  the  exhausting 
scene  she  had  just  gone  through,  she  obeyed  mechani- 
cally, and  suffered  herself  to  be  conducted  across  the 
apartment.  Slowly  she  passed  down  the  corridor,  hard- 
ly knowing  whither  she  went,  for  all  the  pride  and  vanity 
of  her  narrow  soul  had  been  crushed  out  for  the  moment, 
and  the  greatest  humiliation  she  had  ever  known  poured 
into  their  empty  places. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Two  months  later,  on  December  2d,  1848,  the  old 
citadel  of  Olmiitz  looked  more  grim  and  forbidding 
than  usual  under  a  leaden  sky  of  uniform  and  dismal 
grayness,  low  and  disconsolate  and  threatening.  Snow 
lay  thickly  on  the  ground  and  weighed  down  the  branches 
of  the  pines  all  over  the  country,  and  now  and  again  a 
bough  snapped  under  its  burden  with  a  sharp,  tearing 
sound,  followed  by  the  clear,  steely  tinkle  of  falling  icicles. 

The  cutting  north  wind,  blowing  like  a  death-deal- 
ing blast,  was  full  of  whirling  flakes,  like  feather-tips, 
waltzing  in  maddened  circles,  freezing  as  they  fell,  and 
adding  to  the  heaped  -  up  whiteness  hiding  the  world 
from  sight.  As  the  morning  wore  on  the  whole  lower- 
ing heaven  seemed  to  open,  so  dense  a  tourmente  poured 
upon  the  small  town  where  the  Court  had  taken  refuge. 
A  thick,  woolly,  impenetrable  gloom  enshrouded  every- 
thing like  a  suffocating  cloak,  and  the  weather  grew 
wilder  and  wilder  under  the  cruelty  of  that  black  frost, 
the  chill  of  that  desolate  winter. 

Above  the  fortress,  above  the  wildly  flapping  folds  of 
the  Habsburg  standard,  a  flight  of  huge,  dark  birds,  their 
sable  wings  monotonously  sweeping  the  sombre  sky,  kept 
circling  round  and  round,  each  circle  narrowing  and 
widening  again  regularly,  while  their  dismal  croaking 
made  itself  heard  above  even  the  roar  of  the  wind. 

Those  who  caught  sight  of  them  crossed  themselves 
and  muttered  superstitiously  about  "the  curse  of  the 
Habsburgs,"  and  about  the  dread  legend  of  the  ravens, 

in 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

supposed  to  betoken  misfortune  by  their  mere  presence 
to  all  members  of  the  Imperial  family. 

Many  years  later  those  dusky  birds  of  ill-omen  hov- 
ered with  sinister  croakings  above  the  proud  heads 
of  Archduchess  Charlotte  and  of  Archduke  Ferdinand- 
Maximilian,  in  the  fragrant  gardens  of  Miramar  during 
their  last  walk  there  together  before  starting  upon  their 
ill-starred  journey  to  far-off  Mexico;  one  of  the  gloomy 
band  alighting  with  a  swoop  on  the  very  train  of  the 
new-made  Empress. 

Still  later  they  accompanied  the  travelling-carriage  of 
Archduchess  Maria-Christina,  leaving  Vienna  to  join  her 
Royal  fidnce  at  Madrid,  where  she  ultimately  suffered  all 
that  a  woman  can  suffer,  and  but  five  short  years  ago  the 
same  black-plumed  messengers  flew  to  bring  her  death- 
warrant  to  that  peerless  creature,  Empress  Elizabeth, 
upon  a  magnificent  blue-and-gold,  green-and-silver  au- 
tumnal afternoon,  as  she  sat  on  the  moss-grown  rocks  of 
the  Swiss  mountains  above  Territet,  gazing  at  the  lake, 
the  woods,  the  glaciers,  and  the  far-distant  haze  of  the 
mellow  horizon.  Similar  presage  their  swift  wings  bore 
to  poor  Archduchess  Marie-Louise  journeying  from  her 
dear  native  land  to  wed  Napoleon;  to  Emperor  Joseph, 
to  lovely  Queen  Marie-Antoinette,  whom  they  accom- 
panied to  the  very  steps  of  the  scaffold,  and  to  many, 
many  others  belonging  to  that  glorious  but  sorely  afflict- 
ed House  of  Habsburg. 

And  yet  few  know  the  origin  of  this  curse,  or  rather 
the  primary  cause  of  the  ravens'  supposed  blighting  in- 
fluence upon  all  the  descendants  of  Rudolph,  first  of  the 
name,  for  the  legend  has  never  been  printed  as  yet,  save 
perchance  in  some  long-forgotten,  black-letter  record, 
which  none  who  live  now  have  so  much  as  heard  of,  and 
it  is  handed  down  orally  in  the  inner  family  circle  of 
those  whom  alone  it  concerns. 

112 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Thus  it  runs:  Nearly  a  thousand  years  ago  there 
lived,  near  the  spot  where  the  river  Aar  joins  the  Rhine, 
a  bold  and  powerful  lord,  who,  by  his  mighty  courage, 
vanquished  all  his  foes;  a  tall  and  handsome  man,  very 
fair  and  of  splendid  bearing  and  with  a  physiognomy 
that  showed  both  the  habit  and  the  power  of  command. 
He  was  satiated  to  weariness  with  public  homage,  and, 
though  he  ever  acknowledged  it  with  proud  and  court- 
ly grace,  yet  his  happiest  moments  were  those  which  he 
spent  among  the  towering  peaks  of  the  mountains,  or 
within  the  deep  gloom  of  his  forest-lands,  hunting  the 
bear,  the  wolf,  or  the  red  deer  from  their  silent,  mysteri- 
ous haunts;  for  he  was  an  ardent  disciple  of  Nimrod,  and 
when  he  gave  the  coup  de  grd.ce  to  some  fierce  animal 
which  he  had  conquered  by  brute  force,  his  blue  eyes 
darkened  to  steel-like  brilliance  with  an  instantaneous 
and  unconquerable  joy  which  had  won  him  the  sobriquet 
of  Der  Habicht  Graf  (The  Vulture  Count). 

Such  was  Gontran-le-Riche,  Count  of  Altenbourg,  a 
man  to  be  both  feared  and  admired,  swift  and  fierce  in 
passion,  bitter  and  implacable  in  hate,  keen  to  avenge 
and  slow  to  forgive,  and  yet  with  a  warm,  generous 
heart  beating  under  his  glittering  surcoat  of  steel , 
and  a  sense  of  justice  and  of  fair-play  rare  indeed  and 
superb  to  behold  in  one  so  nearly  omnipotent  as  he. 
Even  towards  his  favorite  antagonists,  the  bear  and  wolf, 
during  the  short,  bleak  winter,  or  the  long,  bright  sum- 
mer days  when  he  pursued  the  wild  swan,  the  blue  heron, 
or  the  golden  eagle  through  the  tall,  rough  meadow-grass 
or  over  the  precipitous  rocks  of  the  high  summits,  he 
displayed  those  qualities  which  are  generally  not  found 
in  men  who  live  such  free,  headstrong,  barbaric  lives  as 
he  did,  who  know  no  law,  no  rule,  and  no  constraint  but 
their  own. 

One  day  Gontran-le-Riche  was  hunting  in  a  maze  of 
*  113 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

dense,  still  woods  and  fir-clad  heights,  where  headlong 
rivers  thundered  through  rocky  gorges,  and  madly  rush- 
ing torrents  foamed  in  the  green  gloom  between  the  vast 
trunks  of  veteran  pines,  when  he  came  upon  a  rocky 
summit,  shaped  like  a  stronghold  built  by  the  hands  of 
Titans,  and  as  lonely  as  any  falcon's  nest  hung  amid  lofty 
branches.  These  great,  voiceless  powers  of  beauty  and 
loneliness  drew  Count  von  Altenbourg  irresistibly,  and, 
ascending  to  the  highest  point,  he  sat  himself  down  on  a 
bowlder  and  gazed  with  enraptured  eyes  at  the  admi- 
rable, wild  panorama  of  wood  and  mountain  unfolded 
before  him.  And  as  he  sat  he  saw,  descending  towards 
him  from  the  clouds,  great  dark  birds,  their  immense 
wings  circling  and  sweeping  the  air  with  a  rustle  as  of 
tearing  silks.  Nearer  and  nearer  and  nearer  they  came, 
till  they  were  poised  immediately  above  his  head,  and 
remained  almost  motionless  in  a  huge,  sombre  ring,  bal- 
ancing themselves  upon  outstretched  pinions,  so  that  he 
could  see  plainly  their  fierce,  golden  eyes  bent  upon  him, 
their  murderous  claws  drawn  up  against  their  silver- 
flecked  breasts,  their  sharply  curved  beaks  opened  men- 
acingly, and  he  felt  that  in  another  moment  they  would 
swoop  down  upon  him, who  had  so  boldly  intruded  upon 
their  domain,  and  batter  him  to  death  with  blows  from 
their  pitiless  wings  and  rending  talons. 

Countless  were  the  soaring  birds;  the  whole  heavens 
seemed  lined  by  that  angrily  ruffled  tribe  assembled 
from  every  quarter,  and  harsh,  threatening  noises 
came  ever  increasingly  from  the  billowy  cloud  of  gleam- 
ing feathers.  Nor  was  their  onslaught  a  slight  peril, 
even  for  so  strong  a  man  as  Count  Gontran,  who,  al- 
though he  had  always  started  honestly  and  given  its 
fair  chance  of  escape  to  every  woodland  quarry,  now 
was  in  deadly  risk  of  finding  no  such  mercy  from  this 
overwhelming  force. 

114 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

His  followers  were  scattered  in  the  wood  below  him, 
quite  out  of  reach  of  his  call,  and  he  was  alone  to  fight 
against  impossible  odds.  The  day  was  still  and  cloudy 
— true  sportsman's  weather — with  no  gleam  of  sun  to 
shine  in  the  hunter's  eyes,  but  in  this  universal  gray- 
ness  the  menace  of  the  vulture  horde  seemed  still  more 
terrible  and  deadlier  of  intent.  There  were  few  braver 
men  living  than  he,  but  he  yet  realized  clearly  that  for 
all  he  knew  to  the  contrary  his  hour  had  come,  and  that 
he,  the  Habicht  Graf,  was  like  to  be  killed  by  the  very 
birds  whose  name  he  bore.  He  rose  to  his  full  height, 
however,  with  undiminished  courage,  his  eyes  sparkling 
with  dangerous  fire,  and  on  his  face  a  look  of  utter  con- 
tempt for  his  pressing  danger.  Thus  he  steadfastly  pre- 
pared to  meet  his  foes,  for  men  must  die,  and  little  does 
it  matter  what  is  the  manner  of  their  death  so  long  as 
they  die  nobly  and  without  flinching,  as  men  should. 

Then,  at  that  moment  of  dire  peril,  a  wonderful  thing 
came  to  pass,  and  a  strange,  for  with  the  swiftness  of  sum- 
mer lightning  a  feathered  cloud,  far  denser,  far  blacker 
than  that  formed  by  the  vultures,  overspread  the  space 
between  the  Count's  head  and  his  imminent  assailants, 
darkening  still  further  the  light  of  the  gray  day,  and 
intercepting  the  now  down-swooping  attack  of  the  great 
birds  of  prey.  No  man  wrestling  through  the  tumult  of 
battle  to  reach  what  he  loves  best,  can  fight  a  more  bitter 
conflict  with  the  death  that  menaces  him  on  every  side 
than  that  flight  of  ravens,  coming  none  could  know 
whence,  which,  with  no  human  love,  no  human  pity  as 
their  incentive,  yet  cast  themselves  upon  that  murder- 
ous army  of  vultures  and  forced  them  back  with  a  hoarse, 
hollow  roar  of  wide-flung  throats  and  clashing  beaks,  like 
the  sound  of  a  tempest,  and  drove  them  swiftly  across  the 
darkening  skies  like  a  cloud-rack  before  the  wind.  The 
Count  could  not  repress  a  shout  of  triumph  and  of  en- 

"5 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

couragement  to  the  winged  legions  of  his  defenders,  but 
even  as  he  gazed  victors  and  vanquished  were  gone,  and 
only  some  stragglers  still  hurled  themselves  on  one  an- 
other, their  smothered  cries  accentuating  the  great  si- 
lence that  was  again  falling  upon  the  green  woods.  Sud- 
denly the  sun  broke  red  through  the  gray  shroud  of  mist, 
the  pine  boughs  below  Gontran  -  le  -  Riche  were  bathed 
in  light,  and  his  followers,  rushing  through  them,  fell  at 
his  feet  in  the  joy  of  having  found  him  after  a  desperate 
search,  guided  only  by  the  strange  turmoil  of  the  battle 
raging  above  the  impenetrable  dome  of  the  trees,  through 
which  they  had  labored  so  long  in  vain. 

Count  Gontran,  in  commemoration  of  the  miracle 
which  had  saved  him,  built  himself  a  watch-tower  on  the 
top  of  the  rock  which  nature  had  shaped  so  closely  to 
resemble  one,  and  called  it  the  "Habichtsburg,"  which 
from  corruption  became  "Habsburg,"  so  he  really  was 
the  founder  of  the  Habsburg  name,  he  himself  being  far 
better  known  towards  the  end  of  his  life  by  the  name  of 
Count  of  Habsburg  than  by  that  of  Count  von  Alten- 
bourg.  His  knightly  pennon  also  from  the  day  of  his 
strange  rescue  bore  a  raven  sable  on  a  field  or,  and  since 
the  birds  were  regarded  by  him  as  friends  to  whom  he 
owed  a  deep  debt,  food  in  plenty  was  always  placed, 
summer  and  winter  alike,  on  the  rocky  base  of  the 
tower,  so  that  they  greatly  'prospered  and  increased, 
building  their  strong  nests  all  through  the  woods  for 
miles  around. 

When,  nearly  a  hundred  years  after  the  death  of  this 
great  and  noble  lord,  Arch  Abbot  Werner  and  his 
brother,  the  Chevalier  Radbot,  came  into  possession  of 
the  solitary  tower  built  by  Gontran-le-Riche,  Count  von 
Altenbourg  -  Habsburg,  and  added  to  it,  until  Schloss 
Habsburg  raised  its  proud  turrets  and  battlements  above 
the  green  billows  of  the  splendid  forest  murmuring  and 

116 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

rustling  at  its  feet;  the  " Habichtsburg "  ravens  protest- 
ed against  the  desecration  of  their  beloved  protector's 
favorite  retreat  with  such  violence,  and  in  such  numbers, 
that  a  destructive  war  upon  them  was  promptly  decreed. 
The  birds  did  not  readily  forsake  their  time-honored 
haunt,  however,  for  it  is  to  Rudolph  von  Habsburg,  first 
Emperor  of  his  House,  fully  two  hundred  years  later  still, 
that  the  final  extermination  of  the  raven  colony  around 
the  castle  is  attributed.  Hence  the  legend  to  the  effect 
that  the  birds,  disgusted  and  infuriated  by  this  piece  of 
unparalleled  ingratitude,  turned  their  hatred  from  cen- 
tury to  century  upon  all  the  descendants  of  Emperor  Ru- 
dolph, and  that  to  this  very  day  they  take  cruel  delight  in 
presaging  misfortune  to  all  those  bearing  that  ancient 
and  glorious  name.* 

Inside  the  fortress  of  Olmutz,  on  the  memorable  De- 
cember day  of  which  I  speak  at  the  beginning  of  this 
chapter,  agitation  and  curiosity  reigned  supreme.  The 
dim  winter  light  stole  through  the  tall,  deep-embrasured 
windows  of  the  gloomy  throne-room,  and  made  so  feeble 
a  contest  with  the  shadows  that  a  sense  of  unrest,  born 
of  that  troubled  time,  had  fallen  upon  a  group  of  Impe- 
rial personages  and  high  court  officials  who  had  been 
summoned  thither. 

Together,  near  the  wide  porphyry  hearth,  where  huge 
logs  of  pine  and  cedar  burned,  stood  Archduke  Ferdi- 
nand-Karl, Francis-Joseph's  brothers  Ferdinand-Max- 
imilian and  Karl-Ludwig,  and  Archduke  Ferdinand- 
d'Este.  A  little  further  were  the  Archduchesses  Maria- 
Dorothea  and  Elizabeth,  shivering  in  their  gorgeous  robes 
de  cour  as  they  whispered  earnestly  with  Archduke  Wil- 
helm- Joseph,  who  bent  inquiring  glances  upon  the  two 

*  The  orthography  of  the  word  Habsburg  is  uncertain,  the 
members  of  the  Imperial  family  still  write  it  with  a  "b,"  from 
Habicht  (vulture). 

117 


A    KEYSTONE    OP    EMPIRE 

heroes  of  the  hour,  Prince  Windischgratz  and  the  cele- 
brated Baron  Jellachich,  Ban  of  Croatia,  no  longer  a  de- 
clared rebel,  but  commander-in-chief  of  the  Imperial 
forces  in  Hungary,  and  a  firm  ally  of  Archduchess 
Sophia. 

A  little  over  a  month  before  these  two  commanders 
had  appeared  before  rebellious  Vienna  with  an  army  of 
a  hundred  thousand  men,  had  defeated  a  relieving  force 
of  Hungarian  insurgents  under  Kossuth,  and  after  a  de- 
structive bombardment  had  taken  the  city  by  assault 
and  reduced  it  to  submission,  and  it  was  expected  that  in 
a  few  days  they  would  carry  the  banner  of  the  Empire 
against  Hungary.  Excepting  Prince  Schwartzenberg, 
Count  Griinne,  Baron  von  Hubner,  and  those  already 
named,  no  other  persons  were  present  in  the  great  apart- 
ment. 

The  assembled  company  were  discussing  the  possible 
reasons  of  their  being  so  suddenly  brought  together, 
for,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  nobody,  not  even  the 
Emperor's  nearest  relatives,  knew  the  nature  of  the 
all-important  ceremony  which  was  immediately  to  take 
place. 

The  ponderous,  richly  carved  furniture,  the  glittering 
throne  itself,  looked  ghostly  in  the  almost  empty  hall, 
where  none  dared  to  talk  above  a  whisper,  and  wherein 
the  very  spirit  of  the  cruel  ice  and  snow  that  wrapped 
the  outer  world  seemed  to  have  penetrated,  so  cold  and 
silent  was  its  atmosphere. 

A  stray  flash  from  the  crackling  fire  threw  into  promi- 
nence here  and  there  a  delicate  bit  of  carving,  a  jewelled 
tazza,  a  Cellini  cup,  or  coaxed  high  lights  from  the  dra- 
peries of  deep-purple  velvet,  and  the  gold-brocaded  por- 
tieres falling  in  straight  folds  before  the  many  doors. 
That  palace  of  Olmutz  was  very  old,  spacious,  magnifi- 
cent, faded,  and  dull.      Busts  of  dusky,  age -yellowed 

118 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

marble  and  of  sombre  bronze  were  barely  visible  in  the 
semi-darkness,  amid  the  worn  brocades  and  the  ancient 
hangings,  with  strange  and  pallid  figures  wrought  upon 
them  by  hands  dead  since  many  centuries. 

"What  hornet's  nest  have  we  stepped  into  now?" 
queried  Archduke  Wilhelm- Joseph,  with  a  sigh  of  im- 
patience, addressing  himself  to  Archduchess  Elizabeth. 
"Sophia  has  a  finger  in  it,  you  may  depend.  She  has 
always  considered  that  all  creation  exists  only  for  the 
honor  of  her  immediate  family,  and  refuses  to  admit  that 
others  may  have  some  additional  though  no  doubt  minor 
objects  in  view.  For  the  last  few  months  she  has  had  a 
preoccupied  look  which,  in  my  humble  opinion,  bodes  no 
good  as  to  her  latest  machinations." 

"You  are,  none  of  you,  quite  just  to  her,"  replied  the 
gentle  Archduchess.  "She  possesses  a  keener  sense  of 
duty  than  most  women,  and  if  her  views  are  perchance 
somewhat  extreme — " 

The  Archduke  laughed  sarcastically,  and,  before  time 
had  been  given  for  the  interrupted  reproof  to  be  resumed, 
the  double  doors  opposite  the  throne  were  flung  open, 
and,  preceded  by  the  Grandmaster  of  the  Court,  Landgrave 
Egon  von  Fiirstenberg,  walking  backward  and  tapping 
his  ivory  wand  of  office  upon  the  floor,  the  Emperor  and 
Empress  entered  and  passed  towards  the  dais,  followed 
by  Archduke  Franz-Karl,  Archduchess  Sophia,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  by  Archduke  Franz  himself. 

The  groups  in  the  great  Thronsaal  fell  abruptly  asunder, 
curtseying  and  bowing  low,  but  furtively  glancing  at  the 
pale  face  of  Ferdinand,  whose  painfully  restless  eyes  and 
twitching  lips  denoted  a  nervousness  controlled  with 
visible  difficulty.  The  Empress  at  his  side  looked  as  if 
she  had  been  recently  crying,  though  now  a  sombre 
light  of  regret  and  resentment  burned  in  her  eyes,  and 
her  bosom  quivered  under  the  glistening  jewels  that  dec- 

119 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

orated  it.  Now  and  again  she  twisted  the  lace  hand- 
kerchief she  held,  and  a  slight  tremor  shaking  her  inter- 
mittently, made  the  diamonds  with  which  her  hair  was 
spangled  sparkle  like  liquid  fire. 

Immediately  behind  her  swept  Archduchess  Sophia, 
with  her  usual  stately  grace  and  proud,  cold  dignity. 
Her  velvet  dress  was  very  plainly  made,  but  fitted  her 
magnificent  figure  to  perfection ;  on  her  breast  shone  the 
stars  of  many  orders,  and  on  her  shapely  head  rested  a 
diadem  of  marvellous  uncut  gems  which  she  wore  like  an 
Imperial  crown.  Only  her  eyes  betrayed  that  she  was 
strung  to  the  highest  pitch,  for  they  were  alive  with  an 
intensity  of  expression  wonderful  to  behold,  as  she  fixed 
them  on  the  trembling  form  of  the  Emperor  and  then 
upon  her  darling,  her  handsome  blue-eyed  boy,  the  child 
who  so  soon  now  was  to  be  her  sovereign. 

During  the  silence  which  followed  it  seemed  as  if  all  the 
fierce  passions  that  mould  humanity  fluttered  their  un- 
quiet wings  through  the  lofty  hall,  the  air  seemed  heavy 
with  portent,  and  a  keen  tingling  tension  of  expectancy 
drew  every  eye  upon  the  throne. 

The  Emperor's  face  had  turned  gray  as  ashes;  for  a 
moment  he  strove  to  hide  his  emotion,  conscious  that 
there  were  but  few  in  the  assembly  but  watched  him  un- 
kindly. He  pressed  his  lips  together  tightly,  and  an  un- 
usual and  curiously  obstinate  expression  drew  down  the 
corners  of  his  mouth,  as  his  eyes  sought  for  a  second  the 
terribly  commanding  orbs  of  Archduchess  Sophia,  whose 
hand  closed  vise-like  upon  the  sticks  of  the  fan  which 
she  held  like  a  marshal's  baton;  then,  suddenly,  an  ex- 
pression almost  fierce  transformed  his  colorless  features 
into  a  tragic  mask;  authority,  nay,  absolute  imperious- 
ness,  came  into  his  bearing  and  manner;  he  no  longer 
seemed  awkward,  cowed,  and  feeble,  but  dignified  and 
commanding,  and  for  once  in  his  life  looked  as  one  born 

I20 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

to  dominate  the  crowd.  His  whole  attitude,  indeed,  de- 
manded attention  as  he  rose  from  the  throne,  unfolded  a 
paper  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  began  to  read  in  a  deep, 
firm,  sonorous  voice  none  had  ever  heard  from  him  be- 
fore, the  following  declaration: 

"For  very  weighty  reasons  we  have  irrevocably  de- 
cided to  lay  down  our  Imperial  Crown  in  favor  of  our 
beloved  nephew,  the  Most  Serene  Archduke  Francis- 
Joseph,  whom  we  hereby  declare  to  be  of  age,  our  be- 
loved brother,  the  Most  Serene  Archduke  Francis- 
Charles,  father  of  our  above-mentioned  Most  Serene 
Nephew,  having  irrevocably  renounced  his  right  of  suc- 
cession to  a  throne  which  belongs  to  him  by  right, 
according  to  the  fundamental  laws  of  our  family  and  of 
the  state,  in  favor  of  his  above-mentioned  son,  Francis- 
Joseph." 

As  he  pronounced  the  last  words,  more  like  a  sovereign 
in  laying  down  the  sceptre  than  at  any  time  when  he 
swayed  it,  the  intense  excitement  which  caused  this  one 
supreme  effort  went  out  within  him  like  a  suddenly  ex- 
tinguished lamp ;  he  was  overtaken  by  a  reaction  visible 
to  all  who  had  been  watching  him  with  amazed  surprise ; 
he  shivered,  bowed  his  head,  and  sat  wearily  down  again. 
Immediately  Prince  Schwartzenberg  arose  and  read,  in 
tones  that  sounded  clear  and  sharp  upon  the  strained 
silence,  three  official  documents,  the  declaration  that 
Francis- Joseph  was  now  of  age,  his  father's  formal  re- 
nunciation to  his  right  of  succession,  and  the  Emperor's 
formal  abdication. 

As  the  Prince  presented  these  papers  to  the  Empe- 
ror and  Archduke  Franz-Karl  for  their  signatures,  and 
counter-signed  them  with  his  own,  many  glances  turned 
towards  Archduchess  Sophia,  and  noted  the  very  faint 
smile  that  hovered  about  her  lips,  and  accentuated  the 
gleam  of  exulting  triumph  in  her  eyes  when  she  looked 

121 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

towards  her  son,  whom  she  crowned  that  day  with  a 
richer  diadem  than  any  of  the  proud  old  Empire,  that 
of  a  love  so  intense,  so  profound,  so  devoted,  that  all  else 
paled  before  it.  She  felt  truly  like  one  who,  after  long 
fasting  and  travail  of  spirit  before  the  dim  altar  of  a 
shrine,  suddenly  beholds  a  luminous  white  vision  con- 
firming and  rewarding  his  faith.  She  had  conquered, 
and  success  is  sweet  always,  but  doubly  so  to  such  a 
hewer  of  fate  as  was  this  inexorably  masterful  woman, 
around  whom  to-day  celestial  ether  seemed  to  swim  and 
swirl. 

As  in  a  dream  she  heard  a  voice  delivering  a  farewell 
address,  as  in  a  dream  saw  faces  pale  and  eyes  fill  with 
tears  as  her  son  knelt  before  the  retiring  Emperor  for 
his  embrace  and  blessing;  but  as  the  young  sovereign 
rose  to  receive  the  formal  homage  and  congratulations 
of  the  members  of  his  House,  she  came  swiftly  forward 
and  folded  him  in  her  arms  with  a  clasp  passionate  and 
strong,  like  her  own  heart. 

The  deed  was  done !  Already  the  heralds  were  on  their 
way  to  proclaim  it  throughout  the  little  town.  The 
crown  of  the  Habsburgs  had  changed  places,  and  the 
poor  discrowned  monarch,  who  had  donned  it  thirteen 
years  before,  now  felt  a  strange  and  unaccountable 
sense  of  void  and  of  bitter  loss  as  he  rose  from  the  throne 
— vacating  it,  as  it  were,  for  the  slender  youth  who,  with 
ready  tears  glistening  in  his  eyes,  was  watching  his  pale 
features,  which  appeared  but  a  shrivelled  mask  of  re- 
serve and  misery,  as  if  the  page  of  history  which  he  had 
just  completed  had  been  written  in  a  blinding  light 
which  had  dazzled  and  hurt  him  cruelly,  and  the  passing 
away  of  which  now  left  him  in  an  almost  sightless  dark- 
ness. 

The  young  Emperor  turned  his  eyes  from  him  and 
gazed  out  at  the  whirling  snow,  falling  in  ever-thickening 

122 


in 

W 

w 
o 


o 

H 

a 

H 
H 

O 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

flakes,  afraid  of  the  emotions  into  which  he  might  be 
hurried,  for  in  his  heart  he  was  profoundly  sorry  for  this 
broken  man,  who  had  spent  his  whole  life  in  wanting  that 
which  he  had  not,  in  regretting  his  own  actions  when  it 
was  too  late  to  efface  them,  in  putting  the  blame  upon 
fate  which  was  due  to  his  own  folly,  caprice,  and  insta- 
bility; and  who  yet  had  always  been  to  him  both  kind 
and  indulgent. 

He  had  reasoned  with  himself  that  the  relinquishing 
of  what  one  is  weary  and  afraid  of  cannot  be  looked  upon 
in  the  light  of  a  sacrifice,  and  yet  the  sight  of  his  uncle 
dethroned  and  uncrowned  was  very  painful  to  him,  for 
he  did  not  possess  the  enviable  faculty  of  being  able  to 
readily  dismiss  from  his  mind  the  thought  of  another's 
unhappiness.  Indeed,  the  subject  had,  during  the  past 
weeks,  occupied  his  mind  to  an  extent  which  surprised 
himself.  And  thus,  after  a  few  minutes  of  irresolution 
and  of  conflicting  impulses,  he  once  more  abruptly  sank 
on  his  knee,  with  the  humility  belonging  to  men  of  high 
mind  and  strong  feeling,  both  young  and  old,  before  the 
gray-haired  figure  standing  stoopingly  at  the  hearth-cor- 
ner, and  tears  fell  upon  his  uncle's  withered  hand  as  he 
kissed  it. 

Genuinely  touched,  Ferdinand  raised  and  embraced 
him,  not  now  as  before,  with  mere  conventionality,  but 
in  a  tender  and  fatherly  fashion. 

"Nay,  weep  not  for  me,"  he  said,  gently.  "I  am 
growing  old,  and  the  thought  that  in  my  retirement  I 
shall  miss  something  of  this  life  makes  me  see  just  now 
all  things  in  shadow,  but  I  will  be  consoled  in  watching 
you  fulfil  your  duty  as  I  wish  I,  myself,  had  done,  for  you 
are  not  one,  I  believe,  to  repudiate  or  neglect  your  obli- 
gations, and  so,  God  bless  you,  my  boy!  and  grant  that 
your  path  be  not  too  arduous  a  one." 

None,  perhaps,  understood  the  intense  diffidence  which 

123 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

enveloped  Francis-Joseph,  as  a  frost  encloses  and  covers 
a  lake  with  a  sheet  of  armor  at  the  beginning  of  a  hard 
winter,  from  the  moment  when  he  realized  the  weight 
and  responsibilities  of  the  Dual-Crown ;  none  understood 
the  bewilderment  and  inward  agitation  which  made  him 
pronounce  the  memorable  "Good-bye,  my  youth,"  on 
the  day  of  his  accession,  and  none  certainly  would  have 
thought  how  heavily  the  only  fear  which  had  ever  touch- 
ed his  dauntless  and  courageous  temper — namely,  a  fear 
of  his  own  limitations,  lay  upon  him  while  listening  to 
his  uncle's  words.  He  was  still  bewildered  with  all  that 
had  taken  place  that  morning,  and,  in  answer,  he  mur- 
mured something,  he  knew  not  what,  and  so  remained 
standing  before  him,  unable  to  recover  his  composure, 
while  the  color  came  and  went  nervously  on  his  young 
face. 

"I  will  try  to  please  you  and  my  parents,"  he  said,  at 
last,  involuntarily.  It  was  what  a  boy  would  have  said, 
and  he  knew  it,  yet  he  could  not  restrain  the  words! 

Empress  Maria-Anna  put  out  her  left  hand — the  one 
nearer  him  —  and  gently  clasped  his,  for  she,  too,  was 
moved  by  so  much  humility  and  modesty  at  so  proud  a 
moment  for  him. 

"You  have  always  pleased  us  all,"  she  said,  very  kind- 
ly. "  Do  not  look  back  and  think  of  your  uncle  and  my- 
self now.  Cosa  fatta,  capo  ha.  What  is  done  is  done. 
We  will  be  very  happy,  he  and  I,  in  Prague,  and  will  give 
you  a  warm  welcome,  both  as  Emperor  and  as  nephew, 
when  you  come  to  see  us." 

Francis- Joseph  looked  at  her  with  a  puzzled  expres- 
sion. He  had  always  thought  of  his  aunt  as  selfish,  ex- 
acting, cold,  and  capricious;  perhaps  he  had  misjudged 
her,  and  he  regretted  that,  too.  So  all  the  heart  he  had, 
and  that  was  much,  he  put  into  his  manner  of  returning 
the  warm,  motherly  kiss  she  gave  him.     As  he  turned 

124 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

from  her  embrace  he  saw  in  his  own  mother's  eyes  a  look 
which  disconcerted  him,  not  quite  of  derision,  but  cruelly 
hinting  at  pity  for  his  extraordinary  youthfulness  and 
guilelessness ! 

Poor  boy  -  Emperor,  he  was  too  little  versed  in  the 
whole  gamut  of  feminine  emotions  not  to  be  perplexed 
as  to  the  motive  and  meaning  of  that  mocking  gaze 
which  hurt  him  so  deeply. 

Two  hours  later  Ferdinand  and  Maria- Anna  set  off  for 
Prague.  The  snow  had  ceased  falling  and  the  landscape 
was  austere  and  astonishingly  grim  in  its  solemn  winter 
livery  of  black  and  white ;  but  the  low,  gray  clouds  were 
slowly  dissolving  and  being  drawn  away  like  a  huge 
gauzy  curtain  from  the  chill  sky,  and  the  walls  of 
Olmutz,  the  island-fortress — planted  in  the  middle  of 
the  broad,  frozen  surface  of  the  river  March — gleamed 
palely  in  the  intermittent  rays  of  the  dim,  yellow, 
sickly  sun.  Above  the  ice-clad  bosom  of  the  stream, 
wont  in  the  spring  to  roll  so  boisterously,  peat-stained 
and  foam-broidered,  through  its  belt  of  marshes,  now 
motionless  and  chained  down  under  the  iron  grip  of 
the  frost,  flocks  of  wild-fowl  flew,  with  shrill  cries,  where, 
in  the  early  morning,  the  Habsburg  ravens  had  circled. 

The  whole  scene  had  changed,  indeed,  when  the  new 
sovereign  mounted  his  charger  to  accompany  his  Im- 
perial predecessor  so  far  as  the  railway  station,  galloping 
at  the  window  of  the  state  carriage,  with  its  coachman,  in 
full-bottomed  wig  and  three-cornered  hat,  seated  alone 
in  his  glory,  and  its  gorgeous  footmen  swinging  behind. 

The  ranks  of  the  good-natured  and  admiring  crowd 
which  had  assembled  to  watch  the  departure  opened  to 
let  the  equipage  pass  by,  with  Hochs  of  delight  and 
loud-shouted  blessings  upon  "Franz  der  Kaiser"  and 
"  Ferdinand  der  Gutige,"  who  "  soi-dit  en  passant  "  is  to 
this  day  remembered  throughout  Austria  as  the  softest- 

*25 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

hearted  monarch  of  them  all!  The  gold  lace  on  the 
brilliant  uniforms  of  the  escort  shone  gayly,  the  horses 
pranced  merrily,  and  there  could  be  no  doubt  whatever 
of  the  popularity  of  both  the  young  and  the  old  mon- 
arch with  the  excellent  Moravians  thronging  the  nar- 
row streets  of  Olmiitz.  They  evidently  knew  naught  of 
"  Le  Roi  est  mort,  vive  le  Roi!"  but  wisely  considered  that 
"le  Roi  est  tou jours  le  Roi,"  and  that  if  there  happened 
just  then  to  be  two  of  them  in  their  midst,  it  was  all 
the  more  glory  and  joy  for  them.  So,  entirely  uncon- 
scious of  any  satire  in  their  cries,  they  shouted  en- 
thusiastically for  both. 

Around  the  Bahnhof  the  multitude  had  gathered 
thickly,  swelled  by  every  passer-by  who  had  been  drawn 
towards  the  vortex  in  hopes  of  catching  a  glimpse  of  the 
cortege,  if  even  but  of  the  very  tip  of  the  court-chas- 
seurs' plumed  hats.  The  crowd  pressed  to  its  closest  and 
densest  as  the  peloton  d'escorte  preceding  the  Imperial 
carriage  swiftly  trotted  into  view,  and  the  name  of  Fran- 
cis-Joseph ran  through  the  people's  ranks  like  a  flame 
through  a  powder-train. 

Already  they  trusted  him ;  they  honored  him  for  the 
splendid  courage  he  displayed  in  assuming  at  so  perilous  a 
moment  the  reins  of  government ;  they  were  proud  of  him 
as  of  a  chosen  leader;  they  cheered  him  deafeningly,  es- 
pecially the  women,  who  were  beside  themselves  with  en- 
thusiasm at  his  proud  grace  of  bearing  under  such  try- 
ing circumstances,  at  the  courteous  fashion  in  which  he 
bowed  his  blond  head,  and  the  dreamy,  half -eager,  half- 
wistful,  wholly  grateful  expression  of  his  handsome 
face. 

Every  heart  in  this  small  portion  of  his  millions  of  new 

subjects  warmed  to  him,  and  tears  stood  in  many  eyes  as, 

hastily  dismounting  from  his  curvetting  horse,  with  a 

bright  and  affectionate  smile  he  helped  his  dethroned 

126 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

uncle  to  alight  under  the  purple  marquee  which  had 
hurriedly  been  raised  over  the  station  steps. 

The  troops  garrisoned  at  Olmiitz  were  yet  more  en- 
thusiastic, if  possible,  than  the  burghers  had  been,  and 
the  crisp,  cold,  winter  air  resounded  with  far  louder 
hurrahs  than  theirs  when,  followed  by  a  large  and  brill- 
iant staff,  the  young  Imperial  generalissimo  rode  to 
the  parade-ground  mounted  on  a  superb  bay  stallion, 
and  wearing  the  uniform  of  his  dragoon  regiment — a 
uniform  still  slightly  dimmed  by  the  powder-smoke  of 
Santa  Lucia. 

From  the  first  the  soldiers  loved  him  with  a  fond, 
trustful,  triumphant  affection,  both  the  old  and  the  new 
troops,  the  grim,  gray-haired,  battle-scarred  warriors  of 
Radetzky,  and  the  pink-cheeked  recruits  from  the  north 
and  the  south,  the  east  and  the  west  of  his  wide  domin- 
ions, uniting  in  this  unparalleled  devotion. 

Most  military  leaders  gain  fame  and  popularity  only 
after  long,  weary,  and  bitter  toil,  after  a  dreary  and  ex- 
hausting pilgrimage,  which  has  silvered  their  heads  and 
dulled  their  eyes  and  their  capacity  for  enjoying  such 
a  reward,  but  he,  this  youngest  of  all  the  generals  in 
his  armies,  gathered  at  once  and  in  full  the  sweet 
fruitage  of  success,  which  burst  into  bloom  spontane- 
ously like  some  swift,  wind-sown,  sun-fed  flower  of 
exceeding  beauty,  on  the  instant  when  he  assumed  com- 
mand. 

To-day,  among  the  rank  and  file  filling  the  parade- 
ground  with  a  mute,  still,  immovable  mass,  there  was 
not  one  man  whose  eyes  did  not  turn  affectionately  on 
him,  whose  pride  did  not  centre  in  him — now  so  wholly 
theirs — the  beating  of  whose  heart  did  not  quicken  as 
he  reined  in  his  charger  and  saluted  them,  for  they  knew, 
and  felt,  that  in  the  slender,  well-knit  body  of  their 
young  chief,  their  new  Emperor,  there  lived  a  courage 

127 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

as  great  and  daring  as  Radetzky's  himself,  and  a  fair- 
ness, a  justice,  a  kindliness  which  could  find  no  compare. 

When  the  brief  soldierly  words  which  he  addressed  to 
them  were  ended,  a  great  shout  arose,  strong,  full,  echo- 
ing over  and  over  again  in  ceaseless  thunder  to  the  now 
bright  azure  and  totally  cloudless  skies  above,  and  as  he 
heard  he  became  strangely  pale;  his  blue  eyes  grew  dim 
as  he  looked  upon  the  men  whose  voices  shook  the  very 
earth  in  their  homage  to  him.  A  light  came  upon  his 
face  which  all  who  saw  it  were  forever  to  remember,  for 
in  that  moment  he  received,  in  all  its  intensity,  the  grand 
reward  of  his  own  sacrifice,  the  price  of  his  relinquished 
youth,  and  realized  in  this  first  hour  the  perfect  splendor 
of  his  great  rulership,  without  a  single  wound  from  the 
thorns  that  hide  beneath  the  jewels  of  the  crown,  or  a 
pang  of  that  pain  which  pursues  and  embitters  every 
human  joy,  every  human  ambition,  in  the  very  hour  of  its 
fulfilment. 

For  a  few  blissful  minutes  all  doubt,  all  self -mis- 
trust disappeared  as  had  they  never  been,  and  it  was 
difficult  for  him  to  retain  his  complete  self-possession 
when  saluting  them.  Once  again  he  galloped  down  the 
front  of  the  troops,  followed  by  his  dazzling  staff,  accom- 
panied by  the  clash  of  lowered  arms,  the  roll  of  drums, 
the  glitter  of  unsheathed  swords  and  presented  bayo- 
nets. It  was  one  of  those  hours  in  which  life  is  trans- 
figured, exalted,  sublimated  into  almost  divine  glory. 
No  wonder  that  he  never  forgot  it,  nor  that  murmur,  like 
the  sound  of  a  sea  throughout  ice-bound  Olmiitz,  as  he 
rode  back  to  the  palace — the  murmur  of  a  great  multi- 
tude, whose  joy  pierces  deep  as  tears,  the  welcome  of 
his  people.  And  as  he  went,  the  bitterness  of  the  past 
months  was,  indeed,  forgotten,  while  in  his  heart  rose 
one  ardent  prayer,  that  strength  might  be  given  to  him 
to  be  ever  faithful  to  the  dreams  of  his  youth. 

128 


CHAPTER  V 

Will  the  world  ever  quite  know,  ever  quite  realize 
what  a  task  lay  before  the  young  monarch,  as  on  De- 
cember 3d  he  awoke  to  the  realization  that  he,  and  he 
alone,  was  now  responsible  for  the  pacification  of  a  coun- 
try more  than  twice  the  size  of  Great  Britain,  a  third 
larger  than  France,  and  for  the  prosperity  of  some  thirty 
millions  of  human  beings,  belonging  to  seventeen  or 
eighteen  different  nationalities?  Will  the  detractors  of 
monarchy  ever  comprehend  or  appreciate  how,  assuming 
this  herculean  labor  as  a  mere  boy  of  eighteen,  he  dealt 
with  the  crushing  problem  given  him  to  solve,  toiling 
through  years  with  a  nobility  and  wisdom,  a  sagacity 
and  an  unselfishness,  seldom  equalled  in  history? 

What  pen  could  describe  how  through  all  titterness 
he  pursued  one  purpose,  how  through  all  desolation  he 
followed  a  sublimely  just  course,  and  how,  when  all  seem- 
ed to  turn  against  him,  he  remained  constant  to  himself 
and  to  his  vows — ay,  and  brought  his  work  of  peace  to  an 
end,  as  far  as  human  work  can  ever  be  completed,  to  the 
lasting  benefit  of  all  those  lands  that  are  subject  to  his 
sceptre  ? 

Every  rustle  of  forest  leafage,  every  breath  of  wood- 
land air,  the  very  odor  of  the  rich,  emerald  grass,  the 
fresh,  free  wind  blowing  from  the  mountains,  the  mighty 
rush  of  the  broad,  blue  rivers,  the  rally-cry  of  the  golden 
eagle  above  snowy  summits,  the  tinkle  of  the  ice  on  the 
glaciers,  the  faint  echo  of  the  village  church-bells,  and 
through  the  hush  of  the  night  the  hive-like  murmur  of 
9  129 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

great  and  prosperous  cities,  all  should  rise  towards  him 
like  an  incense  of  praise  and  honor,  for  he  made  the  Dual 
Empire  what  it  is  to-day — a  realm  fairer  than  all  others, 
and  peopled  by  beings  more  completely  satisfied  with 
their  lot  than  any  I  have  known. 

Those  who  have  read  history — I  do  not  lay  claim  to  an 
historical  pen,  but  merely  attempt  to  portray  Francis- 
Joseph  the  man — know  that  for  months  before  and  after 
the  young  Emperor's  accession  the  land  was  overhung 
by  the  great  smoke-pall  of  incessant  wars,  and  that  there 
was  continual  strife  between  the  Empire  and  nearly  all 
of  the  different  nationalities  which  constitute  it,  in  turn. 

The  p'eople  seemed  to  have  run  mad,  catching  indis- 
criminately truths,  half-truths,  and  lies,  real  and  imag- 
inary wrongs,  from  the  politicians  in  the  guise  of  patriots 
who  brayed  incessantly  to  them,  so  that  the  few  who  re- 
mained sane  were  fain  to  stop  their  ears  in  distress  and 
disgust. 

Misery,  blind  justice  and  blinder  injustice,  crippled 
creeds  and  broken  faiths  drew  down  a  heavy  twilight 
upon  the  land,  which  was  deafened  by  the  din  of  battle- 
fields and  lurid  with  the  glare  of  burning  homesteads  and 
blazing  towns.  The  thirst  for  "liberty"  was  upon  all. 
Alike  those  who  had  from  birth  known  naught  but  the 
squalid  dens  and  fetid,  vicious  alleys  of  slums,  and  those 
born  and  bred  beneath  forest  verdure  and  leading  the 
free,  unfettered  life  of  the  country-side,  babbled  of  "lib- 
erty," as  the  masses  understand  that  elastic  word,  which, 
in  their  rendering  of  it,  means  but  license  to  plunder  and 
to  murder  those  above  them. 

There  will  always  be  mobs,  especially  now  that  the 
lower  classes  are  being  confused  and  made  more  unrea- 
sonable than  ever  by  the  thin  varnish  of  a  little  educa- 
tion, and  there  will  always  be  men  like  Caius  Gracchus 
to  array  the  plebeian  against  the  patrician,  and  discover, 

I3° 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

to  their  cost,  in  the  day  of  their  success,  that  the  plebeian 
is  a  far  more  cruel  oppressor  than  the  patrician  himself. 

But  my  opinions  on  the  matter  are  of  little  value,  and 
bid  fair  to  make  my  humble  writing  lamentably  unpop- 
ular in  these  enlightened  times.  After  all,  human  grist 
must  be  ground,  that  the  round  world  may  roll  on  and 
spin  merrily  into  space,  and  whether  the  grist  ap- 
proves or  disapproves  of  the  process  matters  but  little. 
With  which  philosophical  remark  I  proceed  with  my  own 
task. 

They  were  tumultuously  bitter,  those  subjects  of  our 
young  Emperor.  Riotous  and  desperate,  they  "played 
the  tiger"  savagely,  they  tore  and  rent  whenever  a  prey 
came  in  their  way,  and  would  not  be  appeased  even  by 
such  gentle  and  humane  means  as  those  used  in  Hungary 
by  Feldzeugmeister  von  Haynau ;  and  who  will  say  that 
he  and  his  kind  were  not  sorely  tempted  at  times? 

Amid  this  pandemonium,  amid  these  multitudes  toss- 
ed hither  and  thither  by  the  lying  promises  of  dema- 
gogues and  the  exasperation  of  the  nobles,  while  the 
deafening,  threatening  roar  rose  louder  and  louder,  and 
echoed  farther  and  farther,  with  the  tempest  at  its 
height,  and  the  surging  waves  of  human  passions  un- 
bridled and  terrible  in  their  menace,  the  Emperor  alone 
kept  his  head  with  a  cool,  dauntless  zest  in  peril,  rode  at 
the  head  of  his  troops  calmly,  without  fear  and  without 
bravado,  filled  with  a  manly,  deep-rooted  contempt  of 
danger  tout  simplement,  and  with  a  high  sense  of  what  his 
duty  was  as  well.  Indeed,  when  his  generals  pointed 
out  to  him  that  he  had  no  right  to  risk  his  life,  which  was 
of  incalculable  national  value,  he  merely  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  quietly  explained  to  his  horrified  interloc- 
utors that  no  life  is  really  of  value,  because  there  are 
always  plenty  more  just  as  good  to  fill  the  vacancies,  his 
clear,  frank  eyes  resting  upon  them  the  while  with  a  cer- 

131 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

tain  gleam  of  amusement  which  they  failed  to  compre- 
hend. 

Time  heals  many  wrongs  and  dispels  many  fallacies, 
and  not  even  in  Hungary,  where  the  loyalty  to  Francis- 
Joseph  is  to-day  almost  as  great  as  it  is  in  Austria,  is 
the  Emperor-King  any  longer  held  in  any  way  respon- 
sible for  what  are  termed  the  barbarous  reprisals  of  1849. 
No  more  do  men  associate  his  name  with  that  of  Haynau, 
the  execrated  commander  who  terrorized  Hungary,  in 
his  master's  name,  by  means  of  which  that  master  never 
knew  or  dreamed  at  the  time,  and  whose  fierce,  unflinch- 
ing rendering  of  justice  thrilled  like  a  curse  throughout 
the  land,  for  Feldzeugmeister  von  Haynau's  verdicts  had 
more  than  the  sternness  of  the  Levitical  law.  He  exact- 
ed two  eyes  for  an  eye,  two  teeth  for  a  tooth,  two  lives 
for  a  life,  and  held,  rightly  or  wrongly,  that  rebels  should 
be  slain  with  even  sharper  weapons  than  their  own. 
Therefore,  let  a  few  short  lines  suffice  for  the  mention 
of  him  who  was  so  widely  known  by  the  significant  ap- 
pellation of  "the  Butcher  of  Brescia,"  gained  when,  a 
few  months  before  his  advent  in  Hungary,  he  had  turned 
this  fairest  of  Lombardian  cities  into  a  hideous  shambles, 
and  put  to  the  sword  all  those  who  had  risen  against  its 
Austrian  garrison.  Over  Hungary  he  was  given  fatal 
powers,  and  he  used  them  to  the  uttermost,  draining  the 
blood  of  his  enemies,  drop  by  drop,  spreading  calamity 
and  desolation  wherever  he  went,  because  "he  who  rises 
by  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the  sword,"  and  truly  "  every 
man  was  put  to  death  according  to  his  sin"  where  his  re- 
lentless rule  held  sway. 

He  wrung  the  hearts  of  the  Magyars  dry  of  all  joy,  of 
all  pride,  of  all  happiness,  of  all  hope,  with  as  much  un- 
concern as  they  themselves  wrung  a  goat-skin  dry  of 
wine  in  the  days  of  their  prosperity.  The  Emperor,  had 
he  known  then  of  this  mercilessness,  would  have  stopped 

132 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

it  swiftly  indeed,  and  when,  too  late,  alas !  he  found  it  out, 
this  terrible  discovery  fell  on  him  like  the  stroke  of  an 
iron  mace;  when  he  knew  at  last  the  width  and  the 
depth  of  the  wrong  wrought  in  his,  Francis-Joseph's 
name,  Haynau  himself,  though  bold  to  the  core  and 
possessed  of  wellnigh  unrivalled  courage — for  one  must 
do  justice  to  all — had  he  witnessed  his  master's  anger, 
would  have  shrunk  and  quailed  and  trembled  with  fear. 

There  can  be  no  greater  tribute  paid  to  the  chivalry  of 
the  Magyar  character  than  to  state,  in  conclusion  of  this 
terrible  page  of  Hungarian  history,  that  when  Haynau's 
name  had  become  so  abhorred  throughout  Europe  that 
the  foulest  criminal  hiding  for  murder  was  held  to  be 
worthier  than  he  of  pity,  when  the  blood-smeared  fabric 
of  his  sorry  celebrity  had  tumbled  about  him  and  nearly 
crushed  out  his  own  life,  and  when  his  honors,  his  dig- 
nities, his  ambitions  had  all  crumbled  into  dust  like  dead 
sea-fruit — when,  indeed,  there  was  not  a  city,  a  village,  or 
a  hamlet  in  the  breadth  and  length  of  Europe  where  he 
was  safe  from  assassination,  he  threw  himself  upon  the 
mercy  of  Hungary,  claimed  the  protection  of  the  hot- 
headed, warm-hearted  people  whom  he  had  wronged, 
and  went  confidingly  to  finish  his  days  on  the  Magyar 
land  he  had  caused  to  be  drenched  with  the  blood  of  its 
greatest  aristocrats,  its  fairest  women,  and  its  bravest 
soldiers. 

Vengeance  lay  then  in  the  hollow  of  the  Magyar's 
hands,  to  slay  or  to  spare.  Even  without  participating 
in  this  late-dealt  retribution,  they  could  have  yielded  up 
the  tyrant  to  the  doom  he  had  merited  by  his  long  ca- 
reer of  pitiless  hatred  and  cruelty,  but  a  justice  higher, 
purer,  loftier  than  that  of  revenge  stirred  in  their  hearts, 
one  which  assuredly  must  have  pierced  Haynau  more 
deeply  than  a  death-thrust,  and  which  must  as  certainly 
also  have  brought  to  him  his  first  pang  of  remorse;  for  it 

133 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

was  a  justice  of  mercy  dealt  to  one  who  had  never  shown 
any,  of  pity  to  this  ardent  apostle  of  a  yet  harsher  law 
than  the  stern,  ruthless  lex  talionis  of  Israel,  and  bitter 
of  acceptance  it  must  have  seemed  to  his  untamable 
spirit. 

Under  the  sapphire-blue  skies  of  Hungary  Feldzeug- 
meister  von  Haynau  spent  the  remainder  of  his  life. 
Under  the  lustre  of  its  great,  silvery,  almost  Oriental 
moon,  of  its  red-gold  sun,  he  vainly  strove  to  put  from 
him  the  remembrance  of  the  past,  and  during  all  that 
time  never  did  even  a  drunken  peasant,  by  coarse  jest 
or  jeering  look,  recall  to  his  mind  his  impotence  to  roll 
away  a  single  stone  from  the  crimsoned  cairn  that  he 
himself  had  heaped  to  his  own  memory;  and,  thanks  to 
the  astonishing  magnanimity  of  his  enemies,  to  the  gen- 
erosity of  the  compatriots  and  relatives  of  his  very  vic- 
tims, he  found  in  Hungary  sanctuary  safer  even  than  did 
the  criminals  of  olden  times  at  the  foot  of  the  sacred 
altars. 

While  Haynau  was  yet  repressing  and  oppressing  Hun- 
gary, however,  across  the  barrier  of  the  Alps,  in  the 
gladiolus-filled  marshes  and  the  green,  mulberry-shaded 
pastures  of  Northern  Italy,  in  the  crocus-studded  mead- 
ows of  the  Veneto,  and  beneath  the  gold-and-purple  sun- 
sets of  Lombardy,  under  the  canopies  of  trellised  vines, 
the  tall  hedges  of  laurier  rose,  sulle  Rive  d'Adria  bella, 
and  far  into  the  mountainous  north  country — where  huge 
barges,  laden  with  white  and  purple  figs,  amber  pears, 
rosy  apples,  and  great  baskets  filled  with  golden  grapes 
flap  their  gayly  painted  sails  lazily  above  the  lily-choked 
waters  of  turquoise  lakes  —  raged  the  deadly  struggle 
between  the  blue-coats  of  Italy  and  the  white-coats  of 
Austria. 

The  Italians  were  tired  of  that  bitter  warfare,  and 
fierce  in  their  wrath,  not  only  against  the  Austrians,  but 

134 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

also  against  their  leader,  King  Charles-Albert  of  Sardinia, 
whom  they  accused  of  "banqueting  at  ease  in  palaces  " 
while  their  hearths  were  desolate,  their  children  food- 
less,  and  their  wives,  mothers,  and  babes  dying  of  fever 
like  flies.  Unjust  as  were  their  loud  murmurs  against 
the  man  who,  to  believe  them,  had  forgotten  them,  sold 
them,  and  been  faithless  and  untrue  to  his  pledges,  yet 
their  misery  was  great,  their  frames  were  gnawed  with 
want,  and  they  had  been  forced  to  recoil  again  and 
again  before  the  shock  of  Austria's  onset. 

Charles-Albert  himself  was  maddened  with  indignation 
by  the  disaffection  of  his  soldiers  and  subjects  against  him. 
'They  curse  me  behind  my  back ;  let  us  see  what  they  will 
dare  say  to  my  face!"  he  exclaimed,  angrily,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  battle  of  No  vara,  and,  disregarding  the  warn- 
ings of  his  generals  and  of  his  staff,  he  mounted  a  fresh 
horse,  and,  with  teeth  clinched  and  hands  sternly  gripped 
on  the  bridle,  he  rode  straight  into  his  sullen,  fog-soak- 
ed, powder-begrimed  Piedmontese  army,  so  embittered 
against  him,  so  ready  to  upbraid  him,  if  nothing  worse, 
down  into  the  close-wedged  ranks,  into  the  very  heart  of 
the  malcontents  and  rebels,  till,  when  his  charger  could 
push  a  way  no  further,  he  contemptuously  faced  those  who 
but  a  few  moments  before  were  loudly  clamorous  against 
him  without  a  flicker  of  his  keen,  brave  eyes. 

Utter  amazetnent  followed  this  certainly  most  unex- 
pected apparition  in  the  dark  smoke  and  the  white,  cling- 
ing, drenching  fog,  and  a  great  silence  fell  upon  the  whole 
enormous  assembly. 

"So  you  are  cursing  and  upbraiding  me,  I  am  told!" 
he  cried,  in  a  voice  which  penetrated  to  the  very  last 
ranks  of  his  momentarily  cowed  troops.  "See!  I  am 
here,  tell  me  what  wrong  I  have  done  you?" 

There  was  in  the  familiar,  challenging  tone  something 
which  struck  a  chord  never  quite  dumb  in  men's  hearts, 

J35 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

white  in  the  cool  bravery,  the  sang-froid  of  the  King, 
sitting  firmly  on  his  nervously  plunging  horse,  his  face 
unblanched,  his  eyes  meeting  theirs  with  complete 
and  undisguised  scorn,  was  something  which  tempo- 
rarily arrested  their  mad  irritation.  But  suddenly  a 
single  piping,  shrill  voice  cried  out  from  some  undis- 
covered point:  "Give  up  the  crown,  or  down  with 
you!" 

At  once  savage  yells  and  uncouth  oaths  broke  from 
these  men,  persuaded  that  they  were  but  poor,  purblind 
tools,  forced  to  do  all  the  dirty,  difficult  work  for  this 
man  set  so  high  above  them,  obliged  to  tunnel  his  way  for 
him,  to  throw  the  bridges  by  which  he  hoped  to  pass  on 
to  victory,  while  they  lay  gasping,  dying,  wounded, 
starved,  cast  aside,  unrewarded  and  unthanked,  and  a 
fierce  grudge  against  what  they  called  his  pestilential 
tyranny  burned  in  their  breasts.  Were  they,  then,  to  be 
forever  and  ever  the  mill-horses  made  to  grind  for  his 
profit  and  glory?  So  they  roared  and  shouted  them- 
selves hoarse,  hurling  the  most  undeserved  and  senseless 
charges  at  him,  while  he  listened,  unmoved,  his  thorough- 
bred rearing  and  fretting,  terrified  at  the  pushing  forms 
jammed  and  crushed  against  its  sleek  sides,  at  the  forest 
of  hands  and  arms  tossing  in  violent  protest,  at  the  thou- 
sands of  voices  thundering  imprecations,  at  the  hungry, 
savage  sea  of  upturned  faces,  with  bright,  fierce  eyes 
and  wide-open  mouths  foul  with  curses  and  twisted  with 
slavering  hatred. 

Late  that  night,  in  a  little  peasant  hut  sheltered  by 
trees  dripping  with  the  soaking  rain,  which  veiled  the 
whole  landscape  and  dulled  and  blotted  it  out  like  a 
soaked  fusain  drawing — one  of  those  cheerless  nights 
which  even  in  balmy  Italy  are  dreary  and  depressing  and 
overhung  with  mist  and  cloud  beyond  all  description — 
Count   Thurn,   Commandant  of   the    Fourth    Austrian 

136 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Army  Corps  sat  with  several  of  his  officers  around  a  fire 
of  crackling  pine-cones  and  dried  furze. 

The  house,  low,  lonely,  poor,  was  overhung  with  fes- 
toons of  vines  beginning  to  bud,  through  which  the 
swiftly  descending  drops  pattered  lugubriously.  In  the 
darkness,  beyond  the  faint  glow  filtering  through  the 
wet  window,  a  few  shepherds,  goat-herds,  and,  per- 
chance, one  or  two  men  of  a  less  peaceable  calling,  whose 
arguments  had  much  to  do  with  powder,  ball,  and  dagger, 
had  taken  shelter  beneath  a  gigantic  fig-tree,  beside  a 
pool  of  green,  slimy  water,  on  the  other  side  of  which  the 
troopers  of  Count  Thurn's  escort  had  tethered  their 
horses  under  a  half-demolished  shed. 

Suddenly  a  small  travelling-carriage  came  in  sight, 
the  tired  horses  splashing  and  sinking  wearily  over  their 
fetlocks  in  reddish  liquid  mire;  it  stopped  before  the 
rickety  door  of  the  little  house,  and  from  it  descended 
a  man  who  walked  with  a  slight  lameness  from  a  strain 
in  his  right  foot.  This  did  not  detract  from  a  proud, 
somewhat  commanding  grace  of  bearing,  stamping  him 
at  first  glance  as  a  personage  of  distinction,  and  when  he 
advanced  into  the  miserable  room  where  Count  Thurn 
and  the  officers  of  his  staff  had  just  supped,  they  rose  to 
greet  him,  inwardly  wondering  who  so  grand-looking  a 
man  could  be,  travelling  thus  accompanied  by  a  single 
humble  attendant,  who  had  remained  outside  with  the 
goat -skin-clad  driver  of  the  little  travelling-carriage. 

The  stranger  stood  bareheaded  before  the  Austrian 
commander  and  bowed.  "I  am  Count  de  Barge,  a  Pied- 
montese  cavalry  officer,  and  after  your  forces  won  the 
battle  of  Novara  I  obtained  permission  to  absent  myself 
from  the  army  during  the  duration  of  the  armistice. 
Your  Emperor  should  be  a  proud  man  to-night,  for  his 
army  has  fought  bravely  and  fairly.  Charles-Albert  has 
abdicated,  and  you  will  now  no  doubt  conclude  peace  on 

137 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

easy  and  honorable  terms.  Will  you  pardon  me  if  I  in- 
trude upon  you  for  a  few  moments  while  my  sorry  team 
is  fed?" 

"  You  are  welcome,  sir!  Any  stranger,  be  he  friend  or 
foe,  is  entitled  to  shelter  on  such  a  night,  but  pray  do  not 
waste  breath  or  time  on  courtesies ;  you  must  be  tired  and 
hungry.  Let  me  see  what  our  meagre  larder  can  offer 
you." 

"No,  no!  Do  not  trouble,"  he  replied.  "A  cup  of 
the  hot  coffee  I  see  on  the  table  is  all  I  need,  since  you 
are  so  kind." 

There  was  a  charm  in  this  stranger's  manner  that  was 
quite  irresistible;  he  talked  well  and  with  a  great  ac- 
curacy of  knowledge  about  military  matters  in  general, 
and  the  present  war  in  particular,  and  Count  Thurn  de- 
rived much  pleasure  from  the  cultured  and  sympathetic 
conversation  of  this  brilliant  and  interesting  unknown, 
who  certainly  possessed  the  gift  of  facile  and  eloquent 
words  to  an  unusual  degree. 

At  last  he  rose  abruptly.  Two  hours  and  a  half  had 
gone  by  since  he  had  entered  the  hut.  Count  Thurn 
signed  his  pass  through  the  Austrian  lines  before  accom- 
panying him  to  the  door. 

"It  would  be  commonplace  to  thank  you.  I  have 
trespassed  too  long  on  your  patience,  and  you  have  been 
courtesy  itself  to  a  fallen  enemy,"  he  said,  in  gracious 
acknowledgment . 

Count  Thurn  made  a  gesture  of  deprecation,  and  bowed 
very  low. 

"Good-night,  sir;  there  can  be  no  mention  of  gratitude 
on  your  part.  It  is  for  us  to  thank  you,  for  you  have 
spoken  to  our  hearts.  Good-night  again,  and  may  you 
have  a  fair  and  safe  journey." 

When  "Count  de  Barge"  had  bowed  himself  out,  and 
the  creaking  door  had  closed  behind  him,  Thurn  glanced 

138 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

at  his  watch ;  it  was  three  hours  after  midnight,  and  in  the 
distance  the  sonorous  voice  of  a  young  shepherd  was 
singing  as  he  drove  his  sheep  through  the  slackening  rain 
towards  the  distant  pastures: 

"  Ad  ogni  finestra  vo'  tendere  un  lacio 
A  tradimento  per  tradir  la  luna 
A  tradimento  per  tradir  le  stelle 
A  tradimento  per  tradir  il  sole 
Perche  restai  tradito  dall'  Amore!" 

Many  days  later  Count  Thurn  discovered  that  his 
guest  of  that  night  was  no  less  a  personage  than  King 
Charles-Albert  on  his  way  to  seek  a  refuge  in  Portugal, 
where,  three  months  afterwards,  he  died  at  Oporto  of  a 
broken  heart.  The  one  servant  who  had  accompanied 
him  on  the  evening  of  Novara,  and  who  alone  followed 
him  into  exile,  closed  the  eyes  of  the  proud  and  valiant 
man,  who,  after  abdicating  in  favor  of  his  son  Victor- 
Emmanuel,  had  absolutely  refused  to  be  treated  other- 
wise than  as  a  simple  citizen. 

Nevertheless,  this  brave  and  noble  monarch  also  re- 
ceived his  quota  of  public  censure.  The  foul  wanderers 
of  the  air  love  to  gather  and  croak  jeeringly  around  the 
dying  eagle,  and  the  ever-generous  masses,  like  the  toad 
in  the  mud-hole  who  spits  industriously  at  the  firefly, 
never  miss  a  chance  of  defiling  that  which  shines  above 
them  and  which  their  ignorance  forbids  them  to  appre- 
ciate. 

********* 

********* 
Within  ten  months  after  his  accession  to  the  throne 
young  Emperor  Francis-Joseph — whom  we  have  long 
neglected,  it  seems  to  me — stood  supreme  in  his  war- 
torn  dominions.  Hungary  had  at  first  defied  him  suc- 
cessfully, but  Russian  aid  and  dissensions  among  the 

139 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

insurgent  leaders  at  length  enabled  him  to  bring  to  an 
end  the  Hungarian  rebellion,  while  the  genius  of  Radetz- 
ky,  by  the  crowning  defeat  at  Novara,  saved  the  Italian 
provinces  to  the  Empire. 

Once  more  the  Austrians  held  undisputed  sway 
throughout  the  plains  of  the  Po.  The  carven  palaces  of 
Venice,  with  their  great  pointed  doors  and  wide  flights  of 
water-steps — the  "  Queen  of  the  Adriatic,"  with  its  fugi- 
tive and  unutterable  fascination,  its  green,  luxuriant  Lido, 
shaded  by  acacia  and  cereus,  its  balmy  air  and  radiant 
light,  its  never-ceasing  melodies  floating  down  the  moon- 
bathed  lagoons,  its  delicious  fragrance  wafted  from  the 
millions  of  blossoms  studding  the  Brenta  meadows,  and 
many  other  lovely,  covetable  cities  filled  with  art  treas- 
ures of  priceless  worth,  were  theirs  forever — at  least,  they 
thought  so  —  and  the  inhabitants  of  these  conquered 
lands  were  bidden  to  make  the  best  of  it.  But  discon- 
tent smouldered  beneath  the  surface.  Beautiful  Italian 
great  ladies,  proudly  ensconced  in  the  galleries  of  old 
palazzi,  cursed  between  their  pearly  teeth  the  white- 
coated  stranieri,  and  glanced  wistfully  at  the  historic 
walls  around  them,  which  had  failed  to  ward  off  that 
trans-Alpine  domination  which  they  considered  so  crush- 
ing a  disgrace. 

In  the  narrow,  sun-baked  streets  of  Verona,  within  its 
grim  old  fortifications,  where  emerald-hued  lizards  scam- 
per away  at  the  mere  rustle  of  the  brown  grass,  within 
its  desolate  houses,  beat  many  hearts  that  burned  for 
revenge  against  the  light-hearted  conquerors  who  were 
seeking  to  waltz  themselves  into  favor  to  the  gay  strains 
of  their  regimental  bands,  and  who  poured  floods  of  pret- 
ty speeches  into  the  unwilling  ears  of  those  modern  re- 
productions of  the  pretty,  black-eyed  maidens,  immortal- 
ized by  the  masterly  hand  of  their  great  compatriot, 

Paolo  Veronese. 

140 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Every  heart  held  close  to  the  past,  and  the  spectator 
was  moved  to  a  curious  sense  that  the  present  was  unreal, 
and  that  the  clock  of  time  had  been  suddenly  set  back 
many  years.  The  people  would  not  break  the  spell,  nor 
allow  themselves  to  believe  that  their  dream  of  national 
glory  had  fled  forever,  but  all  the  gay,  elastic  insou- 
ciance of  the  Latin  temperament  was  gone  from  them,  and 
they  were  content  only  when,  after  the  Couvre-feu  had 
sounded,  their  towns  grew  still,  the  pigeons  went  to 
roost  with  a  great  whir  of  wings  in  the  square,  ivy- 
grown  church-towers,  and  the  old  chimes  called  the 
faithful  to  "Ave-Maria." 

The  keenest  observers  alone  detected  a  scent  of  death 
amid  the  spiced  odors  of  the  pine  woods  and  a  reek  as  of 
the  blood  that  was  later  to  be  shed  heavy  upon  the  air  of 
Lombardy  and  Venetia ;  saw  the  faint  gleam  of  the  star 
of  liberty  rising  slowly,  furtively  above  the  mountains; 
and  heard  a  faint,  prophetic  sound  as  of  the  strife  that 
was  soon  to  come  again  and  destroy  so  many  young 
Austrian  and  Italian  lives ;  but  for  the  time  being  Aus- 
trian hearts  beat  high  with  pride,  because  the  joy  of  suc- 
cess was  theirs. 

And,  during  all  these  months,  what  of  Archduchess 
Sophia?  More  proudly  than  ever,  now  that  she  could 
distinctly  see  the  superb  results  of  her  training,  she  loved 
her  Imperial  son.  The  hand  of  time  which  mellows  and 
softens  all  things  had  not  altered  her  haughty  chilliness 
nor  changed  the  stately,  noble-looking  woman  in  a  single 
particular,  yet  towards  her  eldest  boy  her  heart  yearned 
in  all  his  troubles  and  vicissitudes,  and  beat  high  when, 
watching  him  from  afar,  she  saw  how  his  splendid  nat- 
ure, at  the  first  call  of  duty,  had  leaped  up  from  its  qui- 
escence, like  a  lion  from  its  sleep. 

She  never  permitted  him  to  know  it,  of  course,  but 
she  was  determined  that  his  life  should  still  be  moulded 

141 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

by  her  will,  and  by  her  decree  she  still  held  that  his  fate 
should  be  ruled.  Although,  in  justice  to  her  be  it  said, 
that  when,  during  that  fearful  year  of  1849,  she  saw  the 
haggard,  broken  look  his  young  face  wore,  the  hollow 
circles  beneath  his  eyes,  the  air  of  wearing  pain  hardly 
concealed  by  the  quiet  dignity  of  his  bearing,  she  was 
seized  with  a  baffled  sense  of  despair  at  these  sorrowful 
signs  of  what  her  ambition  had  brought  upon  him  and 
was  now  quite  beyond  her  power  to  alter. 

Her  soul  had  striven  to  accomplish  a  great  and  noble 
work,  she  had  given  her  whole  life  to  this  end,  and  as  she 
gained  it  she  could  not  but  see  that  it  left  him,  in  the 
first  flower  of  his  youth,  to  suffer  for  her  boundless  am- 
bition. Yet,  even  at  such  moments  of  bitter  and  poig- 
nant regret,  she  would  not  yield  or  confess  even  to  her- 
self that  her  darling's  happiness  and  freedom  had  been 
and  was  forever  sacrificed.  She  would  have  given  her 
life  for  his,  but  she  would  not  admit  that,  in  so  far  as 
Franz  himself  was  concerned,  the  fruit  of  her  sowing  was 
evil,  and  that  the  burden  of  sovereignty  she  had  laid 
upon  him  was  passing  heavy,  even  for  his  broad,  young 
shoulders. 

Indeed,  his  burden  was  during  those  weary  months  an 
especially  crushing  weight,  and  the  young  Emperor,  who 
soon  after  his  accession  had  selected  as  the  motto  expres- 
sive of  his  political  ideal  Viribus  Unitis  (united  forces), 
saw  moments  when  he  might  well  despair  of  the  realiza- 
tion of  this  fair  dream. 

It  was  when  Jellachich  was  ignominiously  beaten  by 
Gorgey,  the  great  Hungarian  commander,  on  the  6th  of 
April,  at  Isaszeg,  that  Archduchess  Sophia  saw  her  son's 
calm  utterly  broken  for  the  first  time.  They  had  been 
discussing  the  gravity  of  the  situation  together  earnestly 
when  news  of  the  catastrophe  arrived. 

The  Archduchess   drew  nearer  to  him   and  laid  her 

142 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

hand  upon  his  shoulder — that  hand  made  to  hold  so 
firmly  and  to  relinquish  power  so  unwillingly. 

He  did  not  move  nor  turn  his  eyes  to  her,  but  sat  mo- 
tionless and  silent,  and  the  mother's  white  and  shapely 
fingers  involuntarily  tightened  their  light  grasp,  her  fine, 
clear-cut  features  growing  pale,  her  lips  twitching  ever 
so  slightly. 

Gently  but  inexorably  he  put  her  hand  from  him  and 
moved  away  a  little. 

A  shiver  ran  through  her  frame,  and  both  her  hands 
this  time  fell  upon  his  shoulders  again. 

"My  son,"  she  said,  in  a  calm,  cold  voice,  "I  am 
your  mother,  and  also  your  best  and  most  loyal  ad- 
viser. I  have  brought  you  to  the  throne,  and  it  is 
but  meet  that  I  should  help  you  now  to  bear  your 
troubles." 

The  veins  swelled  upon  the  young  man's  temples;  he 
was  deadly  white,  and  he  moved  from  beneath  her  touch 
once  more. 

"My  own  peace,  my  life,  my  soul — I  would  give  all 
to  stop  this  carnage,  to  attain  my  aim,  which  was  to 
bring  them  peace  and  happiness,  but  I  cannot,  I  can- 
not!" he  cried,  desperately,  struggling  vainly  with  un- 
controllable emotion. 

The  words  rang  out  in  passionate  bitterness,  in  piti- 
less condemnation  of  himself,  and  the  imperious  woman, 
who  had  never  as  yet  known  fear,  trembled  as  she  heard 
them  and  was  sore  afraid,  for  until  that  hour  she  had 
never  suspected,  nay,  not  even  she,  the  depths  of  his 
character. 

'You  have  done  better  than  well  until  now,  Franz," 
she  protested.  "You  have  accomplished  more  than 
any  man  of  your  age  ever  did.  Effort  is  for  man,  my 
child,  but  the  result  is  with  God.  Cease  to  blame  your- 
self so  unjustly." 

143 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

"I  have  done  nothing,  accomplished  nothing;  my  ef- 
fort has  been  barren." 

His  voice  sounded  hollow  with  pain,  like  a  cry  wrung 
from  the  breaking  strength  of  a  courageous  soul,  and  his 
mother  shivered  a  second  time,  while  in  her  eyes,  which 
had  rarely  shown  such  weakness,  tears  gathered — tears 
for  his  so  sorely  tried  strength  and  for  his  passing  weak- 
ness, for  the  grief  depicted  on  his  face,  for  the  misery  of 
it  all  —  and  the  tenderness  which  was  ever  a  hidden 
treasure  with  this  high-spirited,  high -mettled  woman 
momentarily  transformed  her  whole  being  into  a  truly 
gracious  figure  of  motherhood,  and  bore  down  the  harsh- 
ness which  she  had  at  first  assumed  as  a  tonic  for  his 
shaken  nerves. 

For  one  long  hour  his  step  unceasingly  paced  the  room 
where  they  were  alone  together,  while  she  sat  on  a 
carved,  high-backed  chair,  motionless  from  the  crown 
of  her  shapely  head — since  a  few  weeks  delicately  frosted 
with  a  little  silver — to  the  hem  of  her  olive-hued  velvet 
gown,  giving  no  further  sign  of  her  pity  or  her  adora- 
tion for  the  only  living  being  for  whom  she  really  cared, 
since  just  then  both  sympathy  and  severity  seemed 
equally  unbearable  to  him. 

At  last  he  stopped  his  weary  walk,  the  recently  ac- 
quired bronze  of  his  face  paled  to  a  sickly  tint,  and  stood 
before  her  quite  silent,  save  for  the  deep-drawn  breath- 
ing that  shook  his  tall  frame.  In  that  hour  he  had  suf- 
fered more  cruel  chastisement  than  pursues  guilt  from 
prison  to  scaffold;  now,  however,  he  was  almost  master 
of  himself,  and  when  he  spoke  his  voice,  although  a 
little  forced  in  its  constraint,  was  nearly  steady. 

"I  have  been  mad  for  a  while,  I  think,  but  I  must 
be  so  no  longer.  I  will  place  myself  at  the  head  of  Ben- 
edek's  Brigade  and  I  will  march  upon  Raab.  I  have 
been  kept  here  too  long,  because  I  was  told  that  my 

144 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

presence  upon  the  bastions  encouraged  and  heartened  the 
troops ;  but  action  in  the  field  is  what  I  need ;  nothing  else 
will  restore  my  energy  to  me."     And  he  smiled  faintly. 

The  Archduchess  had  risen  and  stood  before  him, 
strangely  touched,  although  every  word  the  young  Em- 
peror spoke  quivered  like  a  knife  in  her  heart,  and,  in 
,  the  bitterness  of  her  anxiety,  she  suddenly  became  con- 
scious that  she  had  at  last  encountered  a  determination 
beside  which  even  her  own  was  dwarfed. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  and  in  that  moment 
the  tortured  mother  gathered  back  her  strength,  and 
resumed  the  armor  of  calm  composure  which  she  wore 
nearly  always  with  friend  and  foe. 

"Franz,  you  are  nobler  and  greater  than  I  had  ever 
dreamed  you  would  be,"  she  said,  simply. 

He  turned  his  head  away  with  a  quick  gesture,  so  that 
she  might  not  see  the  sudden  tears  which  prevented  him 
from  speaking,  his  hand  closed  on  the  one  held  to  him,  he 
bowed  low,  kissed  the  cold  fingers  lying  passively  with- 
in his  own,  then  the  dull  echo  of  the  closing  door  vi- 
brated through  the  silence  and  Archduchess  Sophia  was 
alone. 

Alone  with  a  grief  so  sharp  in  its  poignancy,  so  utter 
in  its  desolation,  that  even  her  pride  in  him  was,  for 
the  time,  wholly  inadequate  to  console  her.  The  words 
that  he  had  uttered,  the  light  of  self-sacrifice  which 
she  had  beheld  on  his  face,  were  now  her  tempters  and 
torturers.  Should  she  bid  him  spare  himself — and  her ; 
should  she  now,  after  all  her  teachings  and  examples, 
recant?  The  very  thought  of  so  great  a  humiliation 
was  unbearable;  but  in  a  flash  she  realized  what  her 
life  would  be  should  he  fall  in  one  of  the  battles  which 
drenched  the  fair  soil  of  the  Empire  she  had  made  his 
with  blood;  her  fevered  imagination  displayed  to  her 
the  terrible,  lonely,  loveless  course  of  years  which  she 
10  i4S 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

would  be  condemned  to  pass.  Could  she  endure  it? 
Her  head  sank  between  her  hands,  great  sobs  heaved 
her  breast,  shaking  her  from  head  to  foot,  and  she 
wept,  not  as  women  weep,  but  as  men  weep,  from  the 
depth  of  their  being;  she  had  hardly  strength  for  such 
a  trial.  Yet,  breathe  in  his  ear  the  whispers  of  cau- 
tion, undo  —  if  she  could,  and  that  she  doubted  —  the 
labor  of  eighteen  years,  sacrifice  his  reverence  and  ad- 
miration for  herself!  She  could  not.  No,  no!  Not  even 
her  mother's  love,  her  mother's  fears  could  make  her  do 
such  a  thing. 

The  twilight  deepened  into  night,  the  shadows  grew 
more  sombre  around  her,  but  still  she  sat  there,  her  head 
bowed,  her  heart  and  soul  turning  to  water  within  her. 
Of  what  avail  were  now  her  pride,  her  will,  her  iron  force, 
her  haughty  dominance,  since  they  could  not  shield  her 
from  this  misery,  the  common  lot  of  mothers.  The  long 
corridors  and  vast  halls  of  the  Hofburg  were  as  silent  as 
death,  save  for  the  occasional  faint  sound  of  an  Arcieren- 
gard's  muffled  step  as  he  went  his  rounds.  From  afar, 
now  and  again,  the  sharp  rattle  of  musketry  came  from 
the  ramparts,  or  the  challenge  of  a  sentry  rang  out  with  a 
swift  click  of  arms  from  the  inner  yard  below  her  open 
windows;  but  hours  passed  and  she  did  not  move,  until 
out  of  the  sheer  weariness  of  her  misery  arose  reconquered 
resolution;  the  doubts,  the  conflicting  ambitions,  hopes 
and  fears  for  Franz  her  son,  and  Francis- Joseph  her  ideal 
sovereign,  that  had  torn  her  heart  asunder,  fell  from  her, 
and,  throwing  herself  upon  her  bed  as  the  dawn  broke, 
she  slept  dreamlessly — sleep  bringing  her  oblivion  and 
peace. 

She  awakened  with  the  light  of  the  sun,  warm  and 
clear,  beating  upon  her  face.  The  memory  of  a  great 
struggle  came  back  to  her,  but  softened  by  a  strange  feel- 
ing of  relief,  of  serenity,  and  also  of  self-pity,  for  she  real- 

146 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ized  now  how  futile  would  have  been  her  efforts  had  she 
attempted,  in  her  folly,  to  turn  him  from  his  purpose. 
Nor  was  she  again  shaken  in  the  knowledge  of  her  limita- 
tions when  she  bade  him  God-speed  a  few  hours  later, 
and  saw  in  his  eyes,  blent  with  his  habitual  look  of  fond 
reverence  for  herself,  when  she  heard  in  his  voice,  al- 
though yet  tenderer  than  usual,  an  unconquerable  de- 
termination, a  resolve  which  could  no  longer  be  swayed 
or  bent  at  her  will. 

Never,  in  all  that  had  gone  before,  did  the  Austrian 
troops  behave  so  superbly  as  when,  with  their  young 
sovereign  at  their  head,  his  well-known,  well-loved  voice 
thrilling  their  stout  hearts,  the  brigade  of  Benedek 
forced  an  entrance  into  the  Hungarian  town  of  Raab,  and 
drove  the  insurgents  to  take  refuge  in  Acs,  where  they 
were  soon  to*  be  surrounded  by  their  victorious  enemies. 

When  he  led  them  the  Austrian  forces  were  invincible ; 
they  surged  about  him,  striking,  thrusting,  pouring  down 
upon  their  antagonists  like  torrents  of  lava  from  the 
heart  of  a  volcano,  bursting  through  bristling  forests  of 
steel,  and  foot  to  foot,  breast  to  breast,  rolling  back  the 
desperate  tide  of  Magyar  valor.  Francis-Joseph  greatly 
honored  these  men  who  so  magnificently  opposed  him, 
and  I  have  myself  heard  him  say  of  them,  "They  were 
fighters  who  would  take  no  quarter,  who  kept  their  faces 
to  the  front  till  they  were  stretched  in  heaps  upon  the 
ground,  and  their  unconquerable  bravery  made  our  vic- 
tories almost  as  costly  as  defeats." 

But  how  shall  I  describe  the  boundless  gratitude,  the 
joy  too  deep  for  words,  of  Archduchess  Sophia  when  both 
Italian  and  Hungarian  war-clouds  had  rolled  away  from 
the  land,  and  when,  looking  upon  her  son,  she  saw  in 
him  the  saviour  of  the  Habsburg  Crown  and  the  Habs- 
burg  honor?  The  radiance  in  his  eyes  quivered  deep  in 
her  own  heart,  and  there  was  on  her  face — which  showed 

M7 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

indelible  traces  of  her  cruel  anxieties  during  the  past 
weeks — the  light  of  an  unutterable  gladness  which  he 
had  not  seen  there  even  on  his  return  after  Santa  Lucia, 
though  she  forbore  to  throw  her  arms  about  him  in  a 
frenzy  of  triumph.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was 
completely  and  blissfully  content,  and  he,  too,  smiled 
happily  upon  her,  for  the  intensity  of  her  jealous  and  im- 
perious love  for  him,  great  in  its  usurpation  of  his  whole 
personality,  had  never  as  yet  alarmed  him,  as  it  might 
well  have  done  had  he  but  known  what  was  to  follow. 

The  unforeseen  is  chiefly  dreaded  by  women,  by  men 
more  rarely,  and  by  such  men  as  Francis-Joseph  never; 
and,  holding  her  upon  his  heart,  pressing  her  closely  to 
his  breast,  he  could  not  dream  that  that  very  love  would 
bring  his  strength  and  his  life  to  their  uttermost  strain 
of  endurance,  and  fetter  him,  and  another  dearer  than  all 
else,  in  unbreakable,  unendurably  galling  chains,  until, 
like  a  man  bruised  and  stunned  by  mortal  blows,  he 
should  be  shaken  by  a  voiceless  agony  and  overwhelmed 
by  the  deep  waters  of  a  bitter  anguish. 

The  Emperor's  attitude  towards  Radetzky,  who  had 
so  splendidty  saved  Lombardy  to  the  Empire,  was  a  ver- 
itable revelation  of  the  depths  of  gratitude  his  young 
heart  could  contain,  and  the  grace  and  courtliness,  the 
almost  filial  tenderness  of  his  manner  to  the  aged  war- 
rior became  him  well  indeed. 

Radetzky 's  step  had  now  become  feeble,  his  back  was 
bent,  and  his  wrinkled  countenance  showed  but  too  plain- 
ly the  fatigue  and  strain  of  the  eighty-one  valiant  years 
he  had  left  behind  him ;  but  his  smile  was  still  infinitely 
bright,  there  was  an  undying  humor  about  the  lines  of 
his  mouth,  and  he  had  as  yet  lost  none  of  his  interest  in 
life. 

In  the  spring  of  1849  he  had  received  the  Order  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  at  the  hands  of  Archduke  Wilhelm,  sent  by 

148 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  Emperor  to  confer  upon  him  this  mark  of  favor  rare 
in  the  case  of  non-royal  personages,  and  a  gold,  silver, 
and  bronze  medal  of  great  beauty,  around  which  was 
graven,  "Josephns,  Comes  Radetsky,  Summus  Austria 
Dux"  (Joseph,  Count  Radetzky,  Chief  Captain  of  Aus- 
tria), but  a  still  more  graceful  tribute  was  in  store  for 
him. 

On  the  morning  of  his  first  namesday  after  the  battle 
of  Novara,  upon  entering  his  study,  he  found  on  his  desk 
a  superbly  carved  double-headed  eagle  of  oxidized  sil- 
ver standing  with  outspread  wings  upon  an  onyx  column, 
the  foot  of  which  was  adorned  with  exquisitely  wrought 
war  trophies.  Between  its  clutching  talons  the  Imperial 
bird  held  a  miniature  portrait  of  the  Emperor,  beauti- 
fully executed,  and  an  envelope  containing  the  following 
lines,  written  by  the  giver,  Archduchess  Sophia: 

"  Der  du  gedeckt  den  Kaiserhaar 
Du  Gottes  starker  Heldenschild 
O!  werd'der  Mutter  Dank  gewahr 
Du  ihres  Herrn  und  Sohnes'  Bild! 

"  Dein  Vateraug'  si  eh  dran  erfreu' 
Bis  dass,  vom  Reich  beweint,  es  bricht 
Und  dir,  der  Herr  fur  deine  Treu' 
Ums  Schwert  den  ew'  gen  Lorbeer  flicht!" 

Beside  this  magnificent  present  there  reposed  in  a  pur- 
ple velvet  box  a  sparkling  sword,  and  upon  its  wonder- 
fully chiselled  and  jewelled  hilt  was  inscribed  in  diamond 
letters,  "To  the  greatest  and  the  most  valorous  soldier 
of  Austria,  from  his  grateful  sovereign  and  pupil,  Francis- 
Joseph  I."  The  remaining  space  upon  the  broad,  oaken 
table  was  covered  with  stephanotis — Radetzky's  favorite 
flower — and  with  fresh,  green,  crisp  branches  of  laurels, 
bearing  their  innumerable  metallic-looking  little  berries. 

The  grim  old  warrior  stood,  looking  from  one  to  the 

149 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

other  of  these  touching  tokens  of  reverence  and  affection, 
in  silent  gratitude,  the  golden  motes  of  the  sunbeams 
dancing  in  through  the  open  window  growing  vague  and 
confused  before  his  eyes  as  he  thought  of  the  loyal,  con- 
stant, brave  young  sovereign  who,  at  so  early  an  age, 
had  just  gone  through  so  harsh  and  bitter  a  training,  and 
whom  pride  had  kept  always  silent  when  most  sorely 
troubled,  even  with  this  dear  old  friend  whom  he  so 
greatly  trusted. 

Often  Radetzky's  heart  had  ached  for  him,  and  had  he 
followed  his  impulse  he  would  have  spoken  to  the  boy  he 
loved  words  of  consoling  sympathy  and  encouragement ; 
but  well  lie  knew  that  this  would  have  been  not  only  the 
most  inadvisable  but  the  most  distasteful  thing  that  he 
could  have  done. 

Radetzky  did  full  justice  to  Archduchess  Sophia.  He 
recognized  that  the  weapons  she  used  were  of  a  nature  to 
cut  the  hands  which  plied  them  sooner  or  later,  that  she 
was  an  irritatingly  exacting  and  terribly  autocratic  and 
imperious  woman,  but  neither  was  he  blind  to  her  many 
grand  qualities,  and,  thinking  of  the  finer,  he  overlooked 
the  less  pleasing  side  of  her  nature,  although  what  his 
keen,  shrewd  spirit  allowed  him  to  divine  of  Francis- 
Joseph's  future,  when  the  mother's  love  and  blind  jeal- 
ousy would  find  a  rival  really  worthy  of  her  steel,  brought 
him  that  birthday  morn  into  a  train  of  thoughts  which 
were  an  acute  pain. 

"Si  jeunesse  savait,  si  vieillesse  pouvait,"  he  mur- 
mured sadly  to  the  amazed  aide-de-camp  who  had  just 
entered,  and  who  stood  respectfully  at  a  distance  looking 
over  at  the  table  where  the  magnificent  Imperial  eagle 
glittered  in  the  morning  light. 

When,  nine  years  later,  the  heroic  old  man  breathed  his 

last,  there  had,  alas,  already  happened  much  to  justify 

his  fears. 

150 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

It  was  in  Northern  Italy,  still  then  under  Austrian  rule, 
but  in  Italy,  that  land  of  contrasts  par  excellence,  where 
sighs  and  laughter,  mirth  and  death,  love  and  hatred  are 
ever  as  cunningly  intermingled  as  the  scarlet  tulips  of 
Lombardy  are  with  its  rippling  meadow-grasses,  or  the 
stars  of  the  silvery -leaved  borage,  rolling  their  azure 
waves  with  the  golden  wheat-fields  of  Piedmont,  that  Ra- 
detzky's  ninety-two  years  were  brought  to  a  close,  with- 
out a  pang,  and  with  the  shadow  of  his  old,  brave  smile  on 
his  lips,  together  with  a  last  blessing  from  his  departing 
soul  for  his  beloved  sovereign.  His  body,  however,  was 
brought  home  in  great  pomp,  and  at  his  splendid  funeral 
all  those  present  could  see  how  profound  was  the  sorrow 
of  the  young  Emperor  at  the  irreparable  loss  of  his  dear 
old  friend. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Great  changes  began  to  take  place  throughout  the 
Empire  as  soon  as  peace  was  restored.  The  young 
monarch  had  ripened  rapidly  during  the  first  months  of 
his  arduous  and  difficult  reign,  and  with  his  usual  decis- 
ion he  immediately  set  about  doing  what  he  had  ap- 
pointed for  himself  to  do.  And  allow  me  to  add  that 
when  Francis-Joseph  sets  his  mind  to  accomplish  a  thing, 
his  friends  and  his  enemies  alike  know  that  his  obstina- 
cy— to  call  it  by  a  very  hard  name — is  very  difficult  to 
overcome. 

His  life  was  now  one  of  the  most  brilliant  and  envied 
in  the  world,  although  there  were  many  things  to  worry, 
annoy,  and  distress  him  still,  many  miseries  which  he 
could  not  alleviate,  and  which  weighed  upon  his  kind 
heart,  many  sudden  crises  which  yawned  like  abysses 
before  his  feet,  and  which  could  at  a  moment's  notice 
precipitate  Austria  into  fathomless  desolation. 

These  awful  responsibilities  that  had  descended  upon 
his  life,  as  swiftly  as  in  tropical  latitudes  the  violet  night 
falls  down  upon  the  dazzling  day,  often  depressed  him 
deeply.  Sometimes  he  looked  mechanically  round  upon 
the  glitter  of  his  Court,  upon  the  fair  lands  that  he  ruled, 
wondering  greatly  at  the  suddenness  and  contrast  of  the 
change,  and  bent  his  head  as  though  under  the  weight 
of  some  great  bodily  burden,  but,  ever  mindful  of  a  fa- 
vorite maxim,  "  He  who  endures,  conquers,"  he  faced  life 
and  duty  alike  with  proud  serenity,  never  giving  any 
outward  sign  of  regret  or  of  weariness. 

152 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

A  fitting  motto,  indeed,  for  that  man  of  ever-vigi- 
lant energy,  whose  intensity  of  application  has  always 
been  such  that  throughout  all  his  long  life  he  has  never 
allowed  himself  to  slur  over  anything,  or  to  omit  search- 
ing out  the  minutest  points  of  every  subject  that  he  has 
encountered!  He  has  given  his  personal  attention  to 
every  detail  of  administration,  making  himself  as  accessi- 
ble to  the  lowliest  peasant  as  to  the  greatest  noble,  has 
investigated  thoroughly  all  aspects  of  every  question, 
and  fully  deliberated  every  step  before  it  was  taken. 
And  yet  neither  the  enormous  amount  of  work  he  has 
accomplished — rising  at  five  every  morning  and  being 
at  his  desk  before  six,  often  even  still  earlier — nor  the 
few  short  hours  set  aside  for  sleep,  nor  even  the  ex- 
cessive bodily  fatigue  entailed  by  countless  other  duties, 
necessitated  by  the  way  in  which  he  understood  and 
performed  son  metier  de  souverain,  ever  told  on  his 
health.  His  eyes  are  as  bright,  his  skin  as  clear,  his 
step  as  buoyant  after  his  overwhelming  task  is  over 
for  the  day,  as  when  he  arises  before  dawn  from  the 
little,  narrow  camp-bed  which  has  always  been  his 
fad. 

And  notwithstanding  all  the  cares  and  distractions 
that  pressed  upon  him,  none  have  ever  come  to  him  for 
help  and  gone  away  empty-handed  or  empty-hearted; 
he  has  granted  his  aid  and  patronage  to  every  unfriended 
talent  or  merit,  and  has  ever  had  a  kind  word  or  a  gen- 
erous action  for  all  who  approached  him  as  he  followed 
his  difficult  way  through  the  toil,  the  envy,  the  insin- 
cerity, and  the  bitterness  of  this  world. 

Of  course  one  gains  experience  and  skill  in  his  as  in 
every  other  walk  of  life,  but  even  at  the  time  of  which  I 
write,  the  Emperor,  with  the  rapidity  of  a  perfectly 
trained  mind,  already  had  every  detail  of  the  great  Im- 
perial engine  clear  as  crystal  always  before  him ;  his  con- 

153 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ciseness  and  comprehensiveness  were  unerring  and  of  al- 
most mathematical  exactness. 

He  no  more  lost  his  head,  now  that  success  began  to 
smile  upon  his  plans,  than  when  the  situation  had  been 
at  its  darkest,  and  he  pursued  his  way  clear  of  eye  as  of 
conscience,  and  quite  regardless  of  what  might  be  said 
of  him  by  friend  or  foe,  for  another  of  his  favorite  say- 
ings has  always  been:  "No  man  in  his  senses  should 
care  for  public  applause  or  public  condemnation,  see- 
ing with  whom  the  verdict  is  always  shared."  Young 
as  he  was,  his  eyes  had  been  washed  by  the  collyrium 
of  experience,  and  he  understood  and  appreciated  adula- 
tions at  their  full  value;  indeed,  there  was  a  queer  little 
smile  on  his  lips  sometimes  which  greatly  disconcerted 
his  most  ardent  courtiers. 

Under  such  a  man  the  great  work  of  reconstruction 
could  not  but  go  swiftly  forward.  Wise  regulations  en- 
couraged agriculture,  industry,  and  commerce  in  the  war- 
racked  land,  countless  abuses  were  corrected,  and  taxes 
abolished.  A  new  scheme  of  national  education  was  de- 
vised and  set  in  operation ;  new  highways  were  construct- 
ed in  all  parts  of  the  country ;  the  railroad  system  greatly 
extended ;  and  the  instigator  of  all  these  schemes  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  that  his  assiduity,  his  heroic  self- 
forgetfulness  were  reaping  their  reward,  and  that  his  in- 
fluence for  good  was  growing  greater  every  day. 

The  methods  by  which  he  wrought  all  this  have  been 
bitterly  criticised,  alike  by  the  small-minded,  who  greatly 
love  to  carp  at  those  above  them,  and  by  the  sober  ad- 
herent of  modern  political  systems,  the  special  offences 
cited  being,  first,  that  within  three  years  of  his  acces- 
sion on  the  i st  of  January,  1852,  he  abolished  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  Empire,  and  for  the  next  eight  years, 
ruled  as  the  head  of  a  strongly  centralized  "military 
despotism,"    so    called,   only    according   constitutional 

154 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

rights  to  his  subjects  again  in  i860;  and,  secondly,  that 
by  the  Concordat  of  1855  he  greatly  strengthened  the 
power  of  the  Church  throughout  his  dominions,  and 
practically  delivered'  matters  educational  into  ecclesi- 
astical hands. 

It  is  strange  that  there  should  be  so  little  comprehen- 
sion of  the  character  of  Francis-Joseph,  and  of  the  realm 
which  he  rules. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  half  a  century  after 
the  founders  of  New  England  crossed  the  Atlantic,  the 
greater  part  of  Hungary,  or  nearly  one-half  of  the  Dual 
Empire,  as  it  is  to-day,  was  still  under  the  dominion 
of  the  Turks,  who  were  only  entirely  expelled  in  17 18. 
Of  the  Empire's  present  population  of  forty -five  mill- 
ions— it  has  increased  by  fifteen  millions  since  the  Em- 
peror's accession — some  eleven  millions  are  Germans, 
some  nine  millions  Magyars,  and  the  remaining  twenty- 
five  millions  are  for  the  most  part  divided  among  the 
various  Slavonic  nationalities  and  dialects,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, Bohemian,  Pole,  Slovak,  Slovene,  and  Croat.  Of 
late  years — though  this  is  aside  from  the  subject — to 
"  make  the  gruel  thick  and  slab  "  by  the  mixture  of  re- 
ligion as  well  as  of  race,  many  thousands  of  Bosnian  and 
Herzegovinian  Mohammedans  have  been  added  to  it. 
The  mass  of  the  people  is  agricultural,  and  if  even  to-day 
they  are  ignorant  and  primitive  enough,  fifty  years  ago, 
rated  according  to  these  characteristics,  the  country 
stood  very  close  to  Russia  indeed,  without  Russia's  lin- 
guistic and  racial  solidarity.  Fiery  Teuton,  semi-Ori- 
ental Magyar,  and  rude  Slav,  with  the  feuds  and  hatreds 
of  ages  in  their  hearts,  were  only  to  be  kept  from  tearing 
each  other's  throats  by  the  Imperial  authority  and  that 
of  the  Church. 

Was  such  an  assemblage  ripe  for  partial  self-govern- 
ment, for  a  constitution,  when  our  Emperor  ascended 

*55 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  throne?  No,  a  thousand  times  no!  And,  if  the 
truth  is  to  be  told,  it  seems  as  if  it  were  not  ripe  for 
it  even  now,  and  would  not  be  for  long  years  to  come, 
as  would  appear  to  be  abundantly  proven  by  the  in- 
cessant squabbles  and  disturbances  of  which  the  Lower 
House  of  the  Reichsrath  has  been  the  scene  ever  since 
i860. 

Could  Francis-Joseph,  moreover,  have  succeeded  in 
transforming  and  pacifying  such  a  realm,  crippled,  rav- 
aged, and  scourged  by  centuries  of  strife  and  bloodshed, 
in  less  than  ten  short  years  had  he  been  hampered  by  a 
Parliament?  No,  again;  a  million,  million  times  no! 
It  is  because  for  that  period  of  time  he  worked  alone, 
great  as  was  the  labor,  that  now  from  mountain  to  plain, 
from  vine-clad  hamlet  to  populous  city,  from  sapphire 
sea  to  sparkling  Alpine  glacier,  Austro-Hungary  is  what 
she  is  to-day,  peaceful  and  prosperous.  It  is  thanks 
to  that  man  alone,  whose  name  should  be  blazoned  in 
gold  on  all  her  monuments,  and  cherished  in  every  Aus- 
trian heart ;  it  is  thanks  to  his  limitless  courage,  wisdom, 
and  perseverance  that  a  collection  of  semi-feudal  king- 
doms and  dependencies  were  moulded  into  a  modern 
state. 

The  autumn  of  1851  was  a  singularly  cold  and  severe 
one ;  heavy  storms  swept  down  from  the  mountains  of  the 
"  Salzkammergut  "  and  of  Tyrol,  and  the  incessant  sound 
of  rain  filled  the  lulls  of  the  furious  winds.  Rivers, 
streams,  brooks,  lakes  swelled  past  all  belief  and  spread 
desolation  and  terror  through  every  valley  and  plain 
which  bordered  their  channels.  At  first  homesteads, 
then  clusters  of  houses,  and  finally  whole  villages  were 
washed  away,  ponderous  dams  burst  asunder  under  the 
pressure  of  the  waters  as  had  they  been  built  of  match- 
wood, newly  made  high-roads  were  totally  destroyed, 
and  great  wheat-fields  swept  into  worthless  heaps  of 

156 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

sodden  straw  by  innocent-looking  little  rills  of  murmur- 
ing foam,  that  tumbled  merrily  at  dawn  over  banks  of 
forget-me-nots,  and  at  nightfall  had  changed  into  dev- 
astating torrents.  Many  lives  were  sacrificed,  and  the 
stricken  people  were  losing  all  courage  before  this  calam- 
ity, and  failing  to  take  proper  measures  for  the  safety  of 
what  remained  to  them,  or,  in  one  word,  to  make  the  best 
of  a  situation  already  sufficiently  bad,  when  news  came 
that  the  Emperor  was  on  his  way  to  personally  help 
them  in  their  distress. 

Any  other  than  Francis-Joseph  would  assuredly  have 
considered  that  to  send  help  and  any  moneys  that  the 
necessities  of  the  moment  demanded  would  be  all  that 
could  be  expected  of  him.  Not  so  the  young  wearer  of 
the  Dual  Crown,  to  whom  this  was  but  a  new  call  for  per- 
sonal action,  and  who,  as  soon  as  the  news  of  those  disas- 
ters reached  him,  lost  no  time,  but  started  immediately 
over  extremely  unsafe  and  precipitous  mountain-roads — 
for  he  had  been  hunting  in  Carinthia — towards  that  por- 
tion of  his  Empire  which  was  so  sorely  stricken. 

The  trip  was  in  itself  no  mean  peril,  for  the  roads  were 
barely  passable,  thanks  to  the  mountain  water-courses 
dashing  under  and  over  them  in  many  places,  and  the 
furious  rain  pouring,  swirling,  and  thundering  without 
any  merciful  intermission  from  leaden,  lowering  skies; 
but  when  His  Majesty's  post-chaise  became  untenable, 
its  determined  occupant  first  rode  on  a  pony  well  used  to 
mountain  travel,  and  finally  walked,  in  order  to  reach 
his  destination. 

There  are  few  things  more  dreary  and  dismal  to  look 
upon  than  a  prosperous  country  devastated  by  flood,  the 
ochre-colored  water  thick  with  mud  and  detritus,  the 
frightened  birds  flying  above  the  turbid  swirl  with  shrill 
cries,  the  continual  clangor  of  the  church-bells  sound- 
ing the  tocsin  between  the  gusts  and  whistlings  of  the 

i57 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

wind,  the  rich  pastures  and  carefully  cultivated  fields 
changed  into  more  or  less  shallow  lakes,  or  cut  across  by 
foaming  channels,  the  fruit -laden  orchards  immersed  to 
the  summit  of  the  trees,  make  up  a  tout  ensemble  which 
awes  the  bravest;  and  yet  when,  at  the  end  of  a  short, 
foggy,  gray  day,  the  Emperor  appeared  amid  this  deso- 
lation, there  was  so  bright  and  heartening  a  smile  upon 
his  handsome  young  face  that  frightened  and  disheart- 
ened men,  women,  and  children  came  scrambling  from 
the  precarious  shelters  where  they  had  temporarily  hud- 
dled, and  threw  themselves  wildly  at  his  feet,  uttering 
cries  of  joy  and  of  hope,  and  calling  blessings  on  his 
name. 

His  mere  presence  immediately  revived  their  energy, 
and,  after  clinging  to  him  like  hysterical  children,  and 
being  quietly  but  sternly  reproved  for  their  weakness, 
they  set  about  to  obey  his  orders  willingly  and  even 
cheerfully.  The  life-saving  boats  were,  unfortunately, 
quite  inadequate  in  number,  quality,  and  size,  but, 
nevertheless,  some  kind  of  method  and  system  was  soon 
organized,  and  really  one  can  assert,  without  any  ex- 
aggeration or  undue  partisanship,  that  the  Emperor 
wrought  miracles,  showing  throughout  a  pluck,  a  deter- 
mination, and  a  devotion  quite  unequalled,  excepting  by 
his  own  self  when,  in  1862,  the  great,  blue  Danube,  that 
marvellous  stream  possessing  such  savage  grandeur,  such 
semi-Oriental  charm  and  beauty,  burst  its  boundaries  and 
swept  away  many  lives  from  the  lower  portions  of  Vien- 
na, and  completely  swamped  the  beautiful  Brigittenau 
meadows  in  the  vicinity  of  the  "  Kaiserstadt "  ;  and,  also, 
when,  in  1879,  Szegedin,  the  old  Turkish  stronghold  and 
the  second  town  of  Hungary,  was  almost  entirely  de- 
stroyed by  the  Theiss  in  flood. 

On  this  latter  occasion  I  was  myself  present,  and  well 
do  I  remember  how  the  Emperor  threw  himself  into  the 

158 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

work,  how  he  toiled  night  and  day,  enduring  most  wear- 
ing fatigues  and  privations,  and  hourly  risking  his  life 
with  the  greatest  possible  unconcern. 

Always  where  the  danger  was  greatest,  continually 
going  to  and  fro  under  crumbling  walls  and  tottering 
buildings  in  a  little  boat  that  he  often  rowed  himself 
through  the  yellow  flood-water,  he  rescued  a  number  of 
doomed  people  with  his  own  hands,  and  under  the  ever- 
falling  rains  which  discolored  and  soaked  his  undress  uni- 
form, and  drenched  him  to  the  skin,  he  dosed  sick  women 
and  children  with  quinine,  wine,  and  meat -juice  brought 
as  close  as  possible  to  the  destroyed  city  by  his  yacht,  and 
moved  about  in  an  atmosphere  rendered  fetid  by  float- 
ing corpses  and  the  carcasses  of  dead  animals,  with  a 
patience,  a  cheerfulness,  and  ever-present  self-oblivion 
which  did  more  to  revive  the  faltering  hearts  of  the 
wretched,  homeless,  starving  creatures  around  him  than 
anything  else  could  have  done. 

Nothing  irritated  him  then — or  at  least  he  displayed 
not  the  faintest  sign  of  impatience  —  when  the  igno- 
rance, poltroonery,  or  obstinacy  of  the  countless  low- 
class  Jews,  who  had  inhabited  Szegedin,  made  his  task 
a  really  exasperating  one,  and  the  admiration  he  in- 
spired in  those  who  watched,  and,  in  a  small,  humble 
way,  tried  to  second  him,  is  as  deep  and  strong  to-day 
as  it  was  twenty  years  ago. 

Indeed,  that  section  of  Hungary  which  had  in  1849 
fought  against  him  with  so  fierce  and  terrible  a  hatred, 
owes  this  Fils  de  Preux  a  heavy  debt,  for  he  made  a 
promise,  subsequently  kept  to  the  full,  of  rebuilding 
Szegedin  "finer  than  it  ever  had  been  before " ;  and  when 
at  last  he  left  them,  the  river  having  retreated  rapidly 
and  all  matters  of  primary  importance  having  been  at- 
tended to  de  main  de  maitre,  there  were  not  a  few  of 
the   elder  generation   who   felt   shamed   and    humbled 

159 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

before  this  grave,  weary,  careworn  man,  who  had  so 
literally  rendered  them  good  for  evil,  and  that  in  the 
grandest  acceptation  of  the  word. 

Scores  and  scores  of  human  beings  owed  their  lives  to 
his  intrepidity,  and  their  subsequent  fortunes  to  his 
generosity,  for  he  saw  to  everything  himself,  discussed 
ways  and  means  to  reconstruct  the  town,  made  all  ar- 
rangements for  the  general  relief  of  thousands,  person- 
ally read  the  official  estimates  of  the  losses  sustained, 
wrote,  calculated,  glanced  through  endless  reports,  and 
finally  with  his  own  hand  drew  up  a  plan  by  which 
the  recreant  river  could  best  be  restrained  in  the  fut- 
ure, and  that  with  all  the  knowledge  of  a  specialist. 

I  will  never  forget  his  farewell  to  the  survivors  of 
the  Szegedin  disaster.  All  those  strong  enough  to  stand 
on  their  feet  crowded  around  him,  lifting  their  voices  in 
passionate  praise  of  him,  and  trying  to  kiss  the  edge  of 
his  long  military  coat,  now  faded  and  frayed  by  con- 
tinual contact  with  slimy  water  and  debris. 

The  boat  which  was  to  convey  him  to  his  yacht  ran 
through  the  fog-laden  dusk  and  stopped  at  the  foot  of 
a  corner  of  the  bastions  spared  by  the  fury  of  the  ele- 
ments upon  which  he  stood,  and  the  splash  of  the  oars 
warned  him  that  the  time  of  departure  had  arrived.  A 
smile  was  on  his  lips,  and  I  am  not  at  all  ready  to  assert 
that  there  was  not  a  tell-tale  moisture  in  his  kind  blue 
eyes,  as  the  crowd  about  him  raised  a  trembling  Eljen 
of  gratitude  and  homage. 

I  could  not  at  that  moment  help  murmuring  some- 
thing to  the  effect  that  he  should,  indeed,  be  proud  and 
happy  on  this  occasion,  whereupon  this  extraordinary 
man  replied,  quite  simply  and  gravely : 

"Pour  quoi  done?  J'ai  fait  si  peu!"  ("Why  that? 
I  did  so  little!") 

I  must  confess  that  I  looked  away  for  a  while  from 

160 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  Soldier- Monarch,  well  proven  and  war-worn,  who 
had  wrought  so  untiringly  and  splendidly  that  his  quiet 
repudiation  of  praise  was  something  almost  pathetic, 
and  that  irrepressible  tears  rose  to  my  eyes. 

The  fancy  fairs,  the  amateur  circus  performances,  the 
gorgeous  lotteries  which  the  Viennese  aristocracy  sub- 
sequently organized  for  the  benefit  of  "poor,  ruined 
Szegedin"  seemed  terribly  paltry  and  meretricious  after 
this,  well  meant  and  splendid  as  they  were;  but,  in  emu- 
lation of  the  harmless  dove  and  sagacious  serpent,  I  pre- 
served a  discreet  silence,  donned  silks  and  laces  in  the 
sacred  cause  of  charity  when  occupying  the  azure  and 
silver  booth  where  I  sold  flowers  and  fruit  with  praise- 
worthy patience  and  enormous  thrift,  slipped  into  hunt- 
ing pink  to  display  the  prowess  of  my  bay  stallion  "  Fleur 
de  Roy"  to  the  most  patrician  and  bejewelled  audience 
in  Europe,  took  turns  with  the  fascinating  Countess 
Ugarte  in  leaping  hurdles  and  five-barred  gates,  and 
applauded  Pauline  Metternich's  Stance  de  prestidigi- 
tation enthusiastically,  always  with  the  same  admirable 
object  in  view;  but  still  all  this  entrancing  glitter  made 
me  only  think  the  more  of  the  dull,  gray,  flooded 
stretches  in  and  about  the  wrecked  town  I  had  so  lately 
left,  and  of  that  one  manly,  stalwart  figure,  doing  far 
more  for  the  wretched  survivors,  with  quiet,  unemotional 
and  unerring  magnanimity,  than  all  this  empty,  though 
remunerative,  frivolity  could  ever  achieve. 

But  to  go  back!  On  the  18th  of  February,  1853,  all 
Europe  was  aroused  to  amazement  and  indignation 
by  the  dastardly  attempt  of  one  Joseph  Libenyi,  a 
tailor's  assistant  from  the  little  Hungarian  town  of 
Stuhlweissenburg,  to  assassinate  the  young  Emperor- 
King. 

Several  have  since  been  made  by  other  hands,  but 
that  date  is  not  yet  forgotten  in  Austria,  and  its  mere 

u  161 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

mention   rouses   the   impulsive    loyal -souled   Viennese 
to  imprecations  of  rage. 

What  insane  desire  of  notoriety,  what  mad  lust  of 
blood,  had  prompted  this  otherwise  cowardly  brute,  or 
was  it  merely  that  evil  leaven,  that  poisonous  venom, 
which,  working  among  the  people,  begets  anarchists, 
Nihilists,  and  demagogues,  and  which,  without  warning, 
had  gone  to  his  weak,  stupid,  sartorial  head,  making 
him  eager  to  strike  down  the  supremely  successful  and 
dearly  beloved  Monarch  he  had  not  so  much  as  even 
seen  from  afar  previous  to  that  fateful  day. 

A  fit  representative,  this  Libenyi,  of  a  class  of  peo- 
ple who  £ontinually  rave  about  oppression  and  the 
wrongs  they  are  made  to  endure,  while  they  beat  their 
wives  to  make  them  work  the  harder,  and  send  their 
anaemic  little  children  to  the  sweat-shop;  who  loudly 
clamor  for  the  "rights  of  man,"  each  one  meaning  there- 
by a  wider  scope  for  his  own  low  impulses,  and  who 
spend  their  evil  lives  yelling  sedition  in  drinking  saloons, 
plotting  murders,  or  rolling,  dead-drunk,  in  the  gutter, 
in  order  to  conclusively  demonstrate  and  emphasize 
their  fitness  for  equality  with  all  that  is  best  and  noblest. 

Swift  has  rightly  said  that  to  call  a  man  ungrateful 
is  to  sum  up  all  the  evil  of  which  he  can  be  guilty.  Had 
an  Italian — it  is  generally  Italians,  I  believe,  who  per- 
petrate such  deeds — been  the  Emperor's  assailant,  no 
great  surprise,  especially  at  that  time,  would  have  been 
evinced,  but  for  one  of  the  subjects  of  this  great,  kind, 
and  eminently  just  man  to  raise  his  hand  against  him 
was  ingratitude  indeed. 

At  midday  the  Emperor,  who  had  as  usual  already 
done  seven  hours'  hard  work  with  his  secretaries  and  his 
Flilgel-Adjudant  dictating,  annotating,  reading  reports, 
and  signing  state  papers  (for  indolence  or  even  mere 
leisure    is  a  thing   the   untiring,  unsparing,  over-con- 

162 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

scientious  Monarch  never  indulges  in),  swallowed  his 
frugal  lunch — invariably  served  on  a  corner  of  his  writ- 
ing-desk and  despatched  in  five  minutes — rang  for  his 
coat  and  cap,  and  walked  out  with  Colonel  Count  Maxi- 
milian O'Donnell,  his  Fliigel- Adjudant,  for  his  daily 
"constitutional"  on  the  inner  bastions. 

There  was  but  little  noise  and  movement  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Hofburg  at  this  hour,  which,  in 
those  days,  was  that  very  generally  set  for  dinner, 
when  they  stepped  past  the  saluting  sentries  at  a  side 
entrance,  and  marched  off  briskly  towards  the  Kdrntner- 
thor.  It  was  a  chill  winter  afternoon,  and  the  two  tall, 
soldierly  figures,  both  wearing  undress  uniforms  and 
long  military  overcoats,  stood  sharply  profiled  against 
the  pale,  misty  gray  of  the  rasping  atmosphere  as  they 
stopped  for  a  minute  to  glance  at  some  newly  begun 
repairs  of  the  bastion  beneath  their  feet. 

At  that  moment  a  man,  with  a  face  stupidly  brutal 
in  its  lineaments  and  its  dogged, sullen  expression,  sprang 
upon  the  Emperor  from  behind,  and  Count  O'Donnell's 
eye  caught  the  flash  of  a  long,  pointed  knife.  For  a 
fleeting  instant  the  Count  gazed  at  the  assailant  blankly, 
and  almost  paralyzed  with  horror,  then,  with  a  bound, 
he  threw  himself  upon  him  and  hurled  him  backwards, 
but,  his  foot  slipping  on  the  frozen  pavement,  they 
crashed  together  to  the  ground.  The  Count,  putting 
out  all  his  strength,  forced  his  antagonist  down  and 
knelt  upon  his  chest,  striking  at  him  furiously  with 
his  clenched  fist,  for  he  was  nearly  beside  himself  at 
the  spectacle  he  had  just  witnessed.  The  knife  had 
fallen  from  the  would-be  murderer's  hand,  and  he  fought 
like  a  wild  beast  to  regain  it,  but  it  lay  too  far  from 
their  writhing,  closely  entwined  bodies,  and  presently, 
with  a  clever  twist  of  the  wrist,  the  Fliigel- Adjudant 
managed  to  unsheath  his  sword.     Vainly   he  tried  to 

163 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

use  its  razor-like  blade  without  letting  his  adversary- 
slip  from  his  grasp,  and  quite  unheeding  a  curiously- 
weak  voice,  which  he  heard  but  did  not  comprehend, 
monotonously  repeating,  "  Put  away  your  sword,  O'Don- 
nell;  put  away  your  sword." 

Fortunately,  at  this  moment,  a  passer-by,  attracted 
by  the  turmoil,  ran  swiftly  up,  and  catching  Libenyi 
by  his  long,  greasy,  unkempt  hair,  banged  his  head 
several  times  violently  against  the  ground,  a  course  of 
action  which  had  the  very  natural  effect  of  putting  an 
immediate  end  to  the  fight,  for  Libenyi,  who  had  cut 
his  hands  severely  in  grasping  the  sword,  was  not  proof 
against  thjs  new  and  yet  severer  punishment,  and  momen- 
tarily lost  consciousness. 

A  score  of  people  were  now  rushing  from  all  sides  to 
the  spot,  and  Count  O'Donnell,  jumping  to  his  feet, 
hastened  to  the  Emperor's  side;  but,  to  his  terror,  he  saw 
that  the  latter  was  staggering,  and  that  a  thin  stream 
of  blood,  slowly  welling  out  from  the  back  of  his  neck, 
had  made  a  broad,  rapidly  increasing  stain  on  his  coat, 
between  the  shoulders. 

"Sind  Majestdt  verwundet?"  exclaimed  the  appalled 
Flugel-Adjudant,  throwing  his  arm  about  his  Imperial 
master,  and  looking  searchingly  at  the  livid  face  before 
him.  Then,  turning  to  those  who  held  Libenyi,  he  cried, 
fiercely,  "Kill  the  brute!  kill  the  brute!" 

Libenyi,  who  meanwhile  had  recovered  consciousness, 
and  who  saw  that  the  death  he  had  wished  to  deal  to 
another  was  now  nigh  unto  himself — which  is  quite 
another  affair  —  gazed  up  at  the  Emperor  with  wild, 
passionate  appeal,  his  whole  frame  shivering,  his  limbs 
growing  powerless  and  giving  under  him  like  those  of 
a  drunken  man  when  he  was  put  on  his  feet,  and  cried, 
hoarsely,  "  Have  mercy  on  me!     O,  God!  have  mercy  on 

me!" 

164 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Francis- Joseph,  dizzy  and  weak  from  loss  of  blood, 
disengaged  himself  from  his  rescuer's  arms,  and  with 
his  own  kindly  smile,  just  then  a  little  wan,  said,  gently, 
"  Do  not  hurt  him;  he  has  been  badly  mauled  already." 

The  crowd  cheered  vociferously  at  this  characteristic 
display  of  magnanimity,  and  would  have  escorted  him 
in  triumph  had  he  not  moved  off  then,  leaning  heav- 
ily upon  Count  O'Donnell,  and  proceeded  slowly  to 
Archduke  Albrecht's  palace,  only  a  few  hundred  yards 
distant,  motioning  his  enthusiastic  subjects  to  stand 
back,  and  even  refusing  to  let  a  carriage  be  fetched. 
As  the  two  walked  away,  blood  -  stained  and  mud-be- 
spattered, the  Emperor  murmured,  in  allusion  to  the 
many  recent  murders  of  Austrian  soldiers  by  the  people 
in  the  streets  of  Milan,  "Jetzt  geht's  mir  wie  meinen 
armen  Soldaten  in  Mailand!"  (Now  I've  been  served 
like  my  poor  soldiers  in  Milan.) 

O'Donnell  was  shaking  from  head  to  foot,  for  he  knew 
well  that  the  wound  must  be  a  dangerous  one  to  thus 
prostrate  so  strong  and  stout-hearted  a  man,  and  he 
could  not  help  crying  out:  "By  God!  Sire,  you  should 
not  have  spared  this  fiend!" 

The  wounded  Emperor  was  by  then  far  too  weak, 
however,  to  remonstrate  or  even  reply,  and  fainted  away 
as  soon  as  he  reached  his  uncle's  residence.  Physicians 
were,  of  course,  immediately  summoned,  but  long  ere 
they  arrived  the  faithful  O'Donnell,  fearing  that  the 
wound  might  be  poisoned,  had  sucked  it  free  of  all  pos- 
sibility of  venom. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  very  narrow  escape  which  Francis- 
Joseph  had  just  had,  for  the  blow  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  fatal  had  not  Count  O'Donnell's  quick  action 
caused  the  knife  to  swerve  and  be  partly  arrested  by  the 
buckle  of  the  Emperor's  military  cravat,  thus  prevent- 
ing any  more  serious  consequences  than  the  infliction 

i6S 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

of  a  deep  flesh  wound,  and  a  consequent  heavy  hemor- 
rhage. 

When  an  hour  later,  Archduchess  Sophia  heard  of  his 
accident  as  she  sat  in  the  spacious  study  where  she  wove 
her  fine  political  nets,  and  from  whence  she  kept  her  wary 
eyes — those  brilliant,  falcon -like  orbs  which  could  often 
detect  what  a  phalanx  of  ministers  failed  to  observe — 
upon  every  corner  of  her  son's  immense  Empire,  she  sum- 
moned the  Chief  of  Police  to  her  side,  and  gave  him  in- 
structions which  filled  even  this  hardened  and  well-sea- 
soned functionary  with  awe. 

From  that  day  on,  moreover,  she  became  sterner,  more 
severe,  and  more  disposed  than  ever  to  make,  as  the 
French  say,  "  a  pair  of  gloves  out  of  the  skin  of  her  most 
loyal  and  devoted  friend,"  for  the  son  she  had  so  nearly 
lost — had  he  expressed  a  wish  for  so  unique  and  unpleas- 
ant a  hand  covering. 

She  was  really  constructed  of  splendidly  tempered 
steel,  this  amazing  Archduchess,  and  toiled  none  the  less 
now,  in  the  days  of  her  success,  than  she  had  done  when 
wrenching  the  crown  from  Ferdinand  to  place  it  on  the 
head  of  its  present  wearer;  nor  was  she  a  whit  less 
punctual,  careful  or  methodical.  Indeed  everything  she 
undertook  was  done  with  a  conscientious  thoroughness, 
none  the  less  complete  because  its  far-sighted  motive 
was  her  son's  aggrandizement  instead  of  her  own,  for 
truly  she  loved  him  a  million  more  times  than  herself. 

Her  gratitude  towards  Count  O'Donnell  was  naturally 
without  limit,  and  she  made  a  point  of  treating  him 
henceforth  as  a  member  of  the  family,  inviting  him  con- 
stantly to  luncheon  and  dinner  at  the  Hofburg,  Schon- 
brunn  or  wherever  else  the  Court  might  happen  to  so- 
journ, declaring,  moreover,  to  whom  it  might  or  might 
not  concern,  that  she  would  never  again  feel  that  the 
Emperor   was    safe    from    danger   excepting   when   he, 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Count  O'Donnell,  was  at  his  side.  She  also  presented 
him  with  a  circlet  of  superb  brilliants,  containing  a  lock 
of  the  Emperor's  hair,  stained  with  the  blood  which 
Libenyi's  dagger  had  caused  to  flow,  and  on  the  inside 
of  which  was  engraved,  {iGott  vergelte  es  Dir!"  (God 
reward  you!) 

Indeed,  she  spoke  and  wrote  so  continually  of  her 
debt  of  gratitude  to  him,  that,  besides  the  cross  of  a 
Commander  of  the  Leopold  Order  conferred  upon  him 
by  Francis-Joseph,  he  received  decorations  from  almost 
all  the  other  reigning  Sovereigns  of  Europe,  and  a  manu- 
propria  letter  from  the  King  of  Prussia,  which  has 
since  become  historical. 

It  would  be  impossible  here  to  describe  the  festivities 
which  marked  the  marvellous  preservation  of  the  Em- 
peror throughout  Austria,  the  music,  the  laughter,  the 
glitter,  the  illuminations,  the  salvoes  of  artillery,  the 
wreaths  of  flowers,  and  the  floating  banners  decorating 
the  streets  and  thoroughfares  of  gay,  light-hearted, 
enthusiastic  Vienna;  or  even  the  laying  of  the  first 
stone  of  that  magnificent  fane,  Heiland's  (Votiv-)  Kirche, 
which  was  consecrated  during  the  fetes  celebrating  the 
silver  wedding  of  Francis-Joseph  and  Elizabeth  in  1879, 
and  which  raises  so  proudly  its  lace -like  twin  spires, 
upon  the  very  spot  where  the  greatest  and  best  Ruler  of 
Austro- Hungary  so  nearly  came  to  a  tragic  end.  I  re- 
gret to  state,  in  conclusion  of  this  incident,  that,  far  from 
being  grateful  for  all  the  demonstrations  which  were 
made  on  account  of  his  "  quasi-assassination " — as  he 
insisted  on  laughingly  denominating  it — Francis-Joseph 
ended  by  losing  his  temper  pretty  thoroughly,  and  by 
forbidding  the  subject  to  be  mentioned  again,  under 
penalty  of  his  most  emphatic  displeasure. 

The  whole  entourage  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  convulsed 
with  laughter,  about  three  months  after  the  murderous 

167 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

attack  upon  the  Emperor,  at  what  befell  one  of  the 
Ambassadors  accredited  to  the  Court  of  Vienna,  who, 
having  been  absent  at  the  time,  believed  himself  obliged 
to  present  to  Francis-Joseph  himself  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity his  effusive  congratulations  upon  "the  auspicious 
termination  of  this  abominable  attempt." 

It  chanced  that  the  Emperor  happened  to  be  engaged 
in  the  innocent  pastime  of  tossing  bread-crumbs  to  the 
white  peacocks  of  the  Schonbrunn  Park  when  the  diplo- 
mat in  question  respectfully  approached  to  tender  those 
hateful  words  of  felicitation,  heard  so  wearisomely  often, 
and  now,  since  some  weeks,  so  strictly  interdicted. 

The  young  Monarch,  who  was  facing  away  from  the 
advancing  Excellency,  remained  unconscious  of  his 
presence  until  the  breaking  of  a  tiny  twig  made  him 
start  and  turn  about. 

A  demi-gala  dejeuner  had  just  ended,  one  of  those 
splendid  affairs  which  were  of  amazing  heaviness  before 
the  Sovereign  —  always  as  frugal  as  an  Arab  —  turned 
his  attention  to  the  reform  of  the  Court  menus,  and  the 
Ambassador,  slightly  flushed  with  good  cheer,  was  in  con- 
sequence all  the  more  disposed  to  favor-currying  effusion. 

"Your  Majesty,"  quoth  he,  pompously,  waving  his 
plump  hands — "Your  Majesty  has  been  but  lately  almost 
snatched  from  our  midst  by  an  unprincipled  monster! 
Would  to  heaven  that  such  foul  individuals  were  once 
and  for  all  eliminated  from  the  world,  that  a  life  so  irre- 
placeable should  never  again  stand  in  danger!" 

'Why  distress  one's  soul  with  vain  wishes?"  asked  the 
Emperor,  gazing  at  the  diplomat  with  speculative  eyes, 
in  which,  however,  shone  an  underglow  of  mischievous 
amusement.  "Besides,  poor  Libenyi  was  hardly  a  mon- 
ster. It  was  in  his  nature,  no  doubt,  to  make  a  fool 
of  himself;  he  was  born  so,  and  had  no  chance  but  to 
fulfil  his  destiny." 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

The  Ambassador  frowned  incomprehension. 

"Your  Majesty  actually  defends  him?" — half  wonder- 
ing, half  reproachful. 

"Oh,  dear,  no,"  disclaimed  his  Imperial  host;  "  I  don't 
defend  him;  I  defend  nobody.  I  merely  recognize  and 
accept — the  ways  of  the  world,  the  distinction  existing 
between  the  higher  and  lower  strata — between  the 
snatchers  and  the — almost  snatched!  The  war  is  uni- 
versal, and  the  trifling  incident  Your  Excellency  so  kindly 
refers  to  is  but  a  miniature  presentment  of  what  is  going 
on  everywhere  in  earth  and  sky." 

"Your  Majesty!"  exclaimed  the  astounded  Ambassa- 
dor, pulling  a  long  face,  "sees  the  universe  through  black 
spectacles,  I  am  afraid." 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  the  Monarch.  "Regicides — 
which  is  using  a  tall  word  for  a  very  small  offender  in 
this  particular  instance  —  are  generally  content  with 
making  a  horrid  disturbance  which  in  their  class  re- 
dounds to  their  credit;  this  variety  of  snatchers  knows 
the  joy  of  being  passionately  admired  and  advocated, 
but  they  are  poor  devils,  after  all,  who  do  not  always  get 
the  bread-crumbs  they  covet  and  would  rend  from  the 
— almost  snatched,  as  do,  for  instance,  those  royal  birds 
yonder,"  and  he  cast  the  few  remaining  morsels  to  the 
anxious  peacocks. 

The  diplomat  arched  his  brows  until  they  almost 
touched  the  fringe  of  steel-gray  hair  adorning  his  high, 
bland  forehead.  Clearly  he  was  offended  and  sorely 
puzzled. 

;<I  dare  not  presume  to  follow  Your  Majesty  on  the 
field  of  debate,  but  all  the  same  I  trust  that  Your  Majesty 
does  not  seriously  excuse  the  ghastly  deeds  which  have 
from  time  immemorial  disfigured  the  pages  of  history." 

'I  hope  not,"  the  Emperor  said  gravely,  with  the 
same  twinkle  of  merriment  underlying  his  seriousness. 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

"But  the  snatcher  here  below  is  ubiquitous  and  eternal, 
he  is  likewise  protean,  and  often  changes  his  visible  form. 
Sometimes  he  is  an  ugly,  brown-faced,  greasy-haired 
Libenyi,  sometimes  he  is  a  florid  and  pompous  official, 
sometimes  again  a  trusted  and  familiar  courtier,  and 
by  no  means  necessarily  a  regicide,  but  he  is  always 
about,  ever  present  and  constantly  on  the  snatch  about 
the  throne." 

There  was  so  fine  and  misleading  an  admixture  of 
mockery  and  gravity  on  the  Imperial  face  that  the  Am- 
bassador felt  nonplussed;  moreover,  he  was  a  Teuton, 
and  the  Teuton  conception  of  sarcasm,  irony,  or  what  is 
merely  a  harmless  joke,  differs  by  a  very  wide  span  from 
anybody  else's. 

"All  the  same,  I  would  call  it  uncommonly  hard  fortune 
to  be  born  what  Your  Majesty  calls  a  snatcher,  an  ap- 
pellation which  I  crave  permission  to  find  somewhat 
vague." 

"Vague!"  cried  the  Emperor,  raising  his  eyes  appeal- 
ingly  towards  the  blue  sky;  "I  meant  it  to  be  vague,  and 
by  no  means  otherwise;  Your  Excellency's  rendering  of 
the  word  is  a  complete  surrender  to  my  contention.  Did 
I  not  say  that  the  snatcher  was  protean,  a  snatcher  of  life, 
of  honors,  of  favors,  of —  Ah !  snatchers  are  indigenous 
to  the  steps  of  a  throne  and  ineradicable  from  its  vicin- 
ity! But  what  hath  all  this  in  common  with  white 
peacocks,  flowery  corbeilles,  and  green  lawns?"  he  con- 
cluded, dramatically,  pointing  to  the  sunny  gardens,  the 
high,  bending  trees,  with  the  glorious  sunlight  of  the 
late  afternoon  caught  in  the  green  -  gold  network  of 
their  myriad  leaves;  and  seeing  the  doubtful,  almost  re- 
proachful ntoitie  scl,  moitie  vinaigre  expression  of  the 
Ambassador's  countenance,  he  concluded  with  his  ordi- 
nary kind  smile,  from  which  all  trace  of  mockery  had 
now  disappeared.     "Ah!  Monsieur  VAmbassadeur,  you 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

have  received  no  better  than  you  deserve;  let  me  im- 
press upon  Your  Excellency  once  for  all  that  I  do  not 
include  you,  to  whom  Imperial  favor  goes  voluntarily 
and  naturally,  in  my  nomenclature;  therefore,  let  us 
hence  to  see  my  black  swans;  we  will  try  them  with 
some  crumbs,  too!" 

This  conversation  is  still  cited  as  a  proof  of  the  Em- 
peror's hatred  for  flattery,  even  at  that  time. 


CHAPTER  VII 

What  woman  living  would  have  seemed  to  Arch- 
duchess Sophia  worthy  of  becoming  the  wife  of  her  Im- 
perial son,  a  proud  position  in  any  one's  eyes  certain- 
ly, but  in  his  mother's — of  whom  the  world  said  that  she 
was  fond  of  imagining  the  universe  created  solely  that  it 
might  have  the  honor  of  serving  as  his  pedestal — an  ab- 
solutely unequalled  one ;  yet  she  knew  that  the  time  was 
now  at  hand  when  he  really  ought  to  marry.  She  had  a 
most  ardent  desire  to  see  the  Habsburg  dynasty  contin- 
ued in  the  person  of  a  grandson ;  but  still  she  was  very 
clearly  aware  that  his  marriage  would  be  to  her  nothing 
short  of  a  torture,  which,  for  a  person  priding  herself  on 
a  quite  remarkable  consistency,  was  assuredly  curious. 

She  was  too  frank  with  herself  not  to  realize  also  that 
she  would  hate,  positively  hate,  the  most  charming  of 
marriageable  Princesses  as  soon  as  her  name  was  even  so 
much  as  coupled  with  that  of  her  son  Franz,  and  her 
burning  sense  of  proprietorship,  her  bitter  jealousy  rose 
in  arms  with  increasing  violence  on  each  separate  occa- 
sion when  she  thought  of  this  dread  necessity  looming 
upon  her  horizon. 

One  may  also  add  that  any  girl  destined  to  become 
Archduchess  Sophia's  daughter-in-law,  even  did  she  pos- 
sess the  beauty  of  Helen,  the  wisdom  of  Minerva,  the 
fidelity  of  Penelope,  the  virtues  of  St.  Martha,  and  the 
genius  of  St.  Cecilia,  would  need  also  the  dauntlessness 
of  a  Joan  of  Arc,  for  her  lot  could,  come  what  happened, 
be  no  enviable  one. 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

The  laws  of  marriage  are  constructed  upon  absurd  lines, 
and  that  is  why  the  sacrament  —  Holy  Mother  Church 
very  rashly  declares  it  to  be  a  sacrament — heralds  as  an 
almost  general  rule  a  lamentable  and  universal  failure. 
Connubial  bliss  is  not  a  thing  to  be  obtained  by  personal 
ingenuity  or  retained  by  mere  obedience  to  precept  or 
to  duty.  It  is  the  most  rare  and  the  most  spontaneous 
thing  on  earth,  born  only  of  the  sympathies  of  two  nat- 
ures mutually  sympathetic,  and  can  no  more  be  forced 
than  durable  happiness  of  any  sort  can  be  created  at 
will. 

And  here  I  have  come  to  the  most  difficult  part  of  my 
task,  for  in  my  first  humble  literary  effort1  I  have  de- 
scribed at  such  length  the  matrimonial  misunderstand- 
ings of  Francis-Joseph  and  Elizabeth,  and  so  clearly  laid 
the  blame  thereof  where  blame  was  due,  that  to  go  once 
more  over  that  thoroughly  beaten  track  would  be,  I  fear, 
unjust  to  my  readers.  But  I  am  so  continually  accused 
of  not  seeing  as  the  world  sees,  that  none  will  be  surprised 
when  I  repeat  here  that  it  would  have  been  far,  far  better 
for  the  "White  Rosebud  of  Possenhofen"  had  she  never 
worn  the  crown  placed  upon  her  graceful  head  by  her 
Imperial  lover,  when  his  passionate  admiration  for  her 
exquisite  face  and  form,  her  youth  and  her  innocence, 
transformed,  like  the  wand  of  Prospero,  her  simple,  pleas- 
urable life  into  the  gorgeous,  shining  magnificence  of  an 
Empress's  jewelled  existence. 

In  the  mere  child,  fresh  from  the  dews  and  fragrant 
breezes  of  her  forest  home,  who  cared  for  flowers  and 
birds,  for  horses  and  dogs,  more  than  for  anything  else, 
this  Prince  Charming  discerned  the  adorable  patrician 
beauty  of  the  future  and  rested  not  till  he  made  it  his 
own;  but  when,  bewildered,  afraid,  and  yet  unutterably 

1  The  Martyrdom  of  an  Empress. 
J73 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

happy,  she  let  her  little  hand  fall  into  his,  she  gave  away 
with  it,  had  she  but  known  it,  all  hope  of  peace  and  of 
happiness,  for  few  were  the  days  of  her  joy  and  wearily 
long  those  of  her  many  sorrows. 

Whoever  has  lived  in  the  intimacy  of  Empress  Eliza- 
beth cannot  but  do  full  justice  to  the  generosity,  the 
tenderness,  and  the  ever-solicitous  gentleness  of  her  hus- 
band, and  must,  in  explanation  of  his  share  in  the  causes 
of  her  sorrows,  refer  those  who  do  not  understand  to  di- 
vergence of  character,  the  exigencies  of  life  on  a  throne, 
and  as  minor  factors  his  pursuit  of  new  passions;  but 
be  all  this  as  it  may,  even  when  the  first  unreasoning 
delight  of  the  honeymoon  had  become  tempered  by 
time,  her  love,  so  pure  and  so  tenacious,  her  splendid 
constancy,  would  have  won  the  battle  had  it  not  been 
for  that  one  implacable,  dogged  opponent,  her  hus- 
band's mother. 

The  modern  girl,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  a  little  too 
flamberge  au  vent  in  her  ideas  and  attitudes,  and  is,  there- 
fore, quite  unable  to  understand  all  that  this  peerless 
bride  felt  of  bewilderment,  shyness,  and  apprehension  in 
the  presence  of  the  sovereign  state  which  had  descended 
on  her  with  such  startling  suddenness  and  splendor.  It 
is  consoling,  however,  to  think  that  she  would  be  more 
fitted  than  was  Elizabeth  to  cope  with  the  ungovernable 
passion  for  interference  of  a  jealous  mother-in-law! 

This  lady's  unconquerable  love  of  authority  governed 
the  young  Empress's  destiny  from  the  first,  for,  like 
many  other  women  of  excessive  energy  and  exclusive 
attachments,  she  could  not  resign  herself  to  abdicate 
even  a  tithe  of  her  power  and  dominion  over  her  son, 
and  her  incessant  rebukes,  reproaches,  criticisms,  and 
expostulations  to  both  husband  and  wife  increased  the 
evil  day  by  day,  which,  like  a  river  widening  from  its 
narrow  source  to  a  broad  estuary,  separated  more  and 

J74 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

more  widely  those  two  fond,  foolish  young  people  whose 
skies  would  otherwise  have  probably  been  cloudless. 

Each  of  her  mother-in-law's  cross  words  and  cutting 
hints  went  to  Elizabeth's  heart  as  the  stab  of  a  lacerat- 
ing knife,  and  one  day,  when  long  after  all  this  was  a 
thing  of  the  past,  and  the  wilful  Archduchess  had  for 
over  five  years  been  laid  at  rest,  I  ventured  to  ask  the 
Empress  why  she  had  not  resisted  her  influence  more 
strenuously  and  used  her  otherwise  strong  will  to  retain 
her  own,  she  replied,  sadly: 

"Ah,  my  dear,  you  do  not  know  what  a  clever,  clever 
woman  she  was,  and  how  deeply  she  could  hurt  with  a 
look  or  a  word  of  unkind  meaning,  how  unbearable  was 
her  constant  suspicion  of  my  every  motive  or  action! 
From  the  moment  I  married  she  set  herself  against  me, 
which  was  quite  enough,  in  those  days  of  her  unquestion- 
ed omnipotence,  to  condemn  irrevocably  any  one,  even 
the  Empress.  Towards  her  son  her  honesty  of  purpose 
cannot  be  questioned,  even  by  me,  although  her  methods 
were  sometimes  curiously  misleading  and  singularly  un- 
scrupulous too.  I  know  she  really  believed  that  I  was 
an  obstacle  on  his  road  to  absolute  pre-eminence,  and 
that  I  would  take  up  too  much  of  the  time  she  had  de- 
creed that  he  should  devote  to  statecraft.  Moreover, 
her  dislike  of  me  was  stronger  than  her  candor  or  sense 
of  justice,  her  prejudices  greater  even  than  her  ordinarily 
very  sincere  regard  for  truth.  Then,  also,  she  had  the 
power  of  swaying  him  at  will  in  most  things,  a  power 
which  she  exercised  with  contemptuous  indifference  to 
all  my  claims  and  rights,  and  her  wrath  was  so  bitter 
at  having  been  momentarily  eclipsed  in  his  affections, 
that  at  times  I  think  she  was  scarcely  sane  on  the 
subject.  I  have  tried  since  her  death  to  do  her  fuller 
justice  than  I  could  force  myself  to  do  while  still  she 
was  my  mentor,  traducer,  and  bitterest  enemy.     She 

J75 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

was,  I  cannot  but  own,  a  magnificent  woman,  in  a  hard 
and  superb  way  —  hard  in  the  downward  curve  of  her 
well-drawn  lips,  in  the  beauty  of  her  large,  relentless, 
defiant  eyes,  hard  in  her  skilful,  clever  management  of 
everybody,  hard  in  her  ambitions  and  even  in  her  few  af- 
fections; nay,  hard  in  her  whole  make-up,  with  the  hard- 
ness of  rock-crystal,  which  neither  heat  nor  cold  can  alter, 
and  you  can  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  no  force 
on  earth  could  drag  her  from  a  position  she  had  once 
decided  to  occupy.  One  of  her  first  reproaches  to  me, 
and  delivered  with  a  contempt  I  never  forgot,  was  when 
she  overheard  me  explain  that  when  yachting  I  some- 
times hung  for  hours  over  the  side,  because  I  was  sure 
of  some  day  catching  sight  of  a  mermaid  under  the 
waves  adorned  with  pink  sea-shells  and  crowned  with 
pale-tinted  sea  anemones!  I  was  but  seventeen  then, 
and  yet  for  years  afterwards  she  continued  to  taunt 
me  with  what  she  called  my  'apt  illustrations  of  faith,' 
and  made  a  point  of  asking  me  often,  a  bride  pour  point, 
when  I  intended  to  come  down  to  the  realities  of  actual, 
every-day  existence  and  cease  to  ride  the  broomstick 
of  illusion!  She  was  not  easy  to  mollify,  I  assure  you; 
even  those  who  found  grace  before  her  eyes  were  never 
allowed  to  know  it,  and  whenever  I  complained  of 
anything  she  used  to  tell  me  that  my  life  was  all  prizes 
and  no  blanks,  except  now  and  then  the  blank  of  satiety !" 
When  this  was  told  me  I  felt  all  the  disgust  of  a  child- 
less woman  for  a  mother's  implacable  jealousy,  but  now 
that  I  have  a  tall  boy  of  my  own,  who  in  a  few  short 
years  will  have  reached  a  marriageable  age,  God  forgive 
me  for  saying  that,  although  I  do  not  deny  the  un- 
doubted nobility  of  renunciation  and  withdrawal  from 
the  first  place  in  a  son's  heart  at  that  painful  moment,  I 
feel  more  in  sympathy  with  Archduchess  Sophia,  such  a 
confession  being,  I  suppose,  greatly  to  my  shame!   This 

176 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

does  not,  however,  diminish  by  the  thickness  of  a  silken 
thread  my  passionate  sympathy  for  my  Empress,  but 
still  I  seriously  doubt  whether  the  sense  of  fair-play 
which  I  pride  myself  on  possessing  would  be  quite 
proof  against  the  fear  of  allowing  myself  to  be  pushed 
into  the  background  of  my  son's  heart  by  a  girl  whose 
only  merit  would,  at  least  at  first,  be  mere  beauty  and 
physical  charm. 

This,  however,  not  really  being  a  confession,  I  will 
resume  my  narrative,  gliding  as  swiftly  as  possible  over 
the  exaggeration  and  invention  of  the  world's  judgment 
concerning  the  gradual  estrangement  between  the  Im- 
perial couple,  who  during  forty-four  years  were  the  tar- 
get for  all  the  arrows  of  slander. 

Throughout  that  long  period  it  was  given  to  but  few 
to  understand  Elizabeth's  character,  ever  childlike  in  its 
impulses  and  simplicity,  and  so  unworldly  in  its  esti- 
mates, so  altogether  above  the  common  level  in  its  lof- 
tiness of  principle,  in  its  horror  of  everything  sordid, 
mean,  or  unclean,  that  after  all  it  is,  perchance,  unfair 
to  blame  the  common  herd  for  its  inability  to  compre- 
hend it. 

That  her  course  of  action,  blameless  as  it  ever  was, 
emphasized  and  darkened  her  husband's  few  shortcom- 
ings— the  shortcomings  of  a  warm  heart  and  a  susceptible, 
generous  nature — was  an  error  on  her  part  which  none 
but  a  very  proud,  very  sensitive  woman  would  have 
made,  but  it  unfortunately  gave  color  to  ill-natured 
stories  and  ground  to  those  conjectures  concerning  the 
domestic  happiness  of  the  Imperial  couple,  which  too 
often  laid  the  fault  at  her  door. 

No  one  could  have  suffered  more  keenly  than  the 
Emperor  when  he  found  that  she  was  so  unjustly  blamed, 
that  all  her  generosity,  her  countless,  thoughtful,  ten- 
der -  hearted  acts  and  her  extreme  nobility  of  charac- 

13  I?7 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ter  failed  to  atone  in  the  eyes  of  his  Court  and  people 
for  her  delicate  disdain  of  all  that  commonplace  glitter 
which  is  covetable  to  most  persons,  that  she  was  paying 
heavily  for  her  lack  of  pliability,  her  indifference  to 
popularity,  and  that  he  himself,  by  mere  carelessness 
and  too  great  a  subserviency  to  his  mother's  counsels, 
had  assisted  in  humbling  the  proud  heart  of  a  woman 
who,  by  her  glorious  beauty,  by  the  potent  and  subtle 
charm  of  her  remarkable  intelligence  and  her  unalter- 
able love,  exercised  over  him  a  sway  stronger  and  more 
enduring  than  any  other. 

Any  mother  can  make  her  son's  life  a  burden  to  him 
if  she  will  conscientiously  set  herself  to  do  it,  especially 
when  this 'son  marries  against  her  wishes.  The  young 
husband  would  be  glad  to  submit  to  any  personal  dis- 
comfort for  the  sake  of  peace  in  his  household,  whether 
it  be  cottage  or  palace,  but  when  in  the  blessed  seclusion 
of  his  family  circle  he  sees  the  rack  and  thumbscrew 
system  of  the  dear  old  Inquisition  applied  in  improved 
and  mental  modification  to  his  wife,  his  situation  is  a 
singularly  unenviable  one. 

There  may  be  des  accommodements  avec  le  del,  but 
there  are  no  accommodements  possible  with  a  mother- 
in-law  determined  to  do  her  worst,  and  perfectly  con- 
vinced that  she  is  in  the  right,  and  this  is  why  Francis- 
Joseph  never  interfered  when  his  lovely  wife,  unable 
to  put  up  any  longer  with  his  mother's  despotism,  would 
go  away  for  a  time  upon  those  foreign  travels  or  long 
sojourns  abroad  which  made  everybody  assert  that  she 
cared  naught  for  her  husband  and  his  Empire,  and  still 
less  for  her  duties. 

In  all  his  long  life  Francis-Joseph  has  been  a  man  of 
unblemished  rectitude,  who  has  never  given  any  one  the 
right  to  blame  or  contemn  him  in  matters  of  the  State  or 
of  his  family  honor,  but  in  the  conflict  of  feelings  which 

178 


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X 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

agitated  him  in  many  of  his  differences  with  his  wife 
and  mother,  he  failed  to  foresee  the  innumerable  conse- 
quences and  miseries  to  his  wife  that  would  arise  from 
his  neglect  to  look  deeper  beneath  the  surface  of  her 
easily  aroused  and  umbrageous  pride.  He  did  not  real- 
ize that  her  heart,  in  its  indignation,  its  solitude,  its  gen- 
eral need  of  sympathy,  became  shy  of  turning  too  ob- 
viously towards  him  for  consolation. 

Such  misunderstandings  are  fatal,  and  are  apt  to 
haunt  one  when  it  is  all  too  late  to  repair  them! 

Elizabeth's  frequent  withdrawals  from  Court  were  on 
many  an  occasion  engendered  by  a  feeling  that  her  hus- 
band cared  no  longer  for  her,  and  that  he  failed  to  com- 
prehend how  she  could  consider  life  hard,  conventional, 
artificial,  and  at  times  hateful;  in  which  she  was  for  once 
cruelly  mistaken,  for  he,  too,  shared  these  impressions 
and  feelings  many  and  many  a  time  in  those  days  of 
unceasing  and  fiery  conflict  between  the  two  beings  he 
loved  best  in  the  world. 

There  was  one  scene  between  Francis-Joseph  and  Arch- 
duchess Sophia  on  this  subject,  of  which  its  only  witness 
spoke  to  me  with  bated  breath  nearly  a  score  of  years 
later;  for  on  this  single  occasion  the  clash  of  those  two 
powerful  natures  proved  formidable  beyond  all  that  can 
be  imagined. 

It  took  place  a  few  years  before  the  Archduchess's 
death,  when,  with  advancing  age,  weariness  and  dis- 
satisfaction were  beginning  to  dull  her  finer  qualities, 
and  when  she  more  frequently  indulged  in  regrettable 
suggestion  about  her  unfounded  suspicions  concerning 
Elizabeth,  to  her  over-wrought  son. 

Never  had  he  seen  his  mother  so  fully  aroused  and  so 
reckless  in  denunciation  as  she  was  on  that  day,  and 
that  merely  because  the  Empress  had  refused  to  be 
present  at  the  Corpus  Christi  procession;  and  yet,  never 

179 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

had  the  unfortunate  Archduchess  loved  him  more  pas- 
sionately than  at  that  moment,  when  she  felt  in  his 
whole  attitude  the  severance  of  many  of  the  tender  ties 
which  had  bound  him  so  strongly  to  her,  but  she  was 
pitiless  in  pursuit  of  her  purpose,  quite  unchangeable  in 
her  opinions,  and,  as  ever,  absolutely  unrelenting  in  her 
tyrannical  meddlesomeness. 

"Is  it  true!"  she  exclaimed,  angrily,  entering  unan- 
nounced in  her  son's  study,  "that  you  are  going  to 
allow  your  wife  to  absent  herself  from  Vienna  again, 
and  that  on  one  of  the  rare  occasions  when  her  presence 
is  either  necessary  or  desirable?" 

Though  she  was  an  unusually  keen-sighted  woman, 
it  had  taken  the  Archduchess  a  long  time  to  realize  how 
entirely  his  passion  for  Elizabeth,  when  it  was  permitted 
to  assert  itself,  swept  away  and  replaced  her  own  influ- 
ence, and  with  every  new  instance  of  this,  to  her,  cruelly 
painful  truth,  she  tried  with  renewed  vigor  to  sap  her 
daughter-in-law's  intermittent  power,  by  taunts  likely 
to  arouse  the  Emperor's  dislike  of  being  curbed  and 
tied  down  by  any  but  herself. 

She  knew  that  he  had  never  been  reconciled  to  the 
idea  of  giving  love  as  a  right,  also,  that  the  Habs- 
burgs  in  love  or  in  sport  were  not  wont  to  tamely  sub- 
mit to  be  relegated  to  the  background,  and  by  suggest- 
ing that  Elizabeth  led  him  par  le  bout  du  nez,  she  often 
succeeded  in  making  her  interviews  with  him  seriously 
detrimental  to  his  wife.  But  on  this  occasion  she  had 
made  a  bad  beginning,  and,  controlling  with  difficulty 
the  anger  her  words  aroused,  Francis- Joseph  said,  with 
strange  coldness: 

"My  wife  is  not  well,  and  the  fatigue  of  such  a  func- 
tion under  the  blazing  sun  would  be  too  much  for  her!" 

"Not  well?  I  see  that  you  are  her  dupe  to-day,  as 
you  have  always  been;  she  is  no  more  sick  than  I  am, 

1 80 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

if  you  only  knew  it.  No  woman  who  can  hunt  and 
swim  and  walk  as  she  does  in  all  weathers  is  too  delicate 
to  accomplish  so  simple  a  duty  as  the  one  now  demanded 
of  her!" 

"You  talk  and  act  as  if  you  were  her  bitterest  enemy, 
my  dear  mother.  You  are  equally  discontented  with 
her  whatever  she  does  or  leaves  undone.  God  knows 
that  I  would  not  willingly  say  a  word  to  pain  you,  for 
you  have  to  me  been  an  angel  of  goodness  and  forbear- 
ance, but  to  my  poor  little  girl  you  are  positively  un- 
just, if  you  will  pardon  me  for  saying  so,  and  who- 
ever hints  a  word  against  her  hurts  me  deeply  by  so 
doing!" 

"I  cannot  pretend  what  I  do  not  feel,  and  it  is  im- 
possible for  those  who  have  your  interests  at  heart  to 
admire  the  whimsical  wax-doll  you  have  been  foolish 
enough  to  marry!"  she  replied,  furiously. 

"Look  here,  mother!"  he  cried,  passionately,  "you 
are  horribly  unjust;  you  are,  indeed!  you  have  never 
ceased  to  be  pitiless  in  your  dealings  with  "Lieschen,"  or 
in  your  efforts  to  alienate  me  from  her;  you  speak 
against  her  without  mercy;  you  constantly  drag  her 
down,  dishearten  her,  inform  her  of  my  lapses  of  loyalty 
towards  herself  —  you  who  should  be  her  stanchest 
friend  and  my  severest  critic  on  such  occasions — since 
you  know  my  many  failings,  for  nothing  escapes  you!" 

The  Emperor  loved  his  mother  tenderly  and  rever- 
entially, but  he  had  long  ere  this  become  aware  that  in 
her  relations  towards  her  daughter-in-law  she  had  not 
displayed  her  usual  wisdom,  and  that  in  her  prejudiced 
interference  between  himself  and  his  young  wife  she  had 
been  extremely  ill  -  advised.  To  himself,  nevertheless, 
she  had,  indeed,  been  a  devoted  mother,  entering  into 
all  his  troubles  and  tribulations  since  the  beginning 
of  his  arduous   reign,   just   as  she  had  when  he  was  a 

181 


A    KEYSTONE    OP    EMPIRE 

boy  entered  into  all  his    sports   and   amusements,  his 
small  sorrows  and  his  petty  vexations. 

A  mother  who  has  contrived  to  be  almost  always  at 
her  son's  side  when  he  came  to  close  quarters  with  life's 
temptations,  sins,  virtues,  pains,  and  pleasures,  and  all 
its  other  awful  or  wonderful  realities,  cannot  be  indiffer- 
ent to  his  matrimonial  relations;  it  would  be  asking 
too  much.  She  had  trained  him  in  honor  and  truth, 
stimulating  his  already  remarkable  energy,  instead 
of  repressing  and  dwarfing  him  as  so  many  tender 
mothers  do,  in  order  to  keep  their  hold  longer  upon  their 
dear  ones.  She  had  put  him  to  sleep  when  he  was  a 
baby  by  telling  him  stories  of  chivalric  deeds  and  of 
courtly  men  in  hauberk  and  corselet,  in  velvet  and  point- 
lace,  who  all  had  made  their  names  famous  by  their 
contempt  for  danger,  their  heroic  daring,  their  un- 
blemished sense  of  honor,  and  the  consequence  of  all 
this  was  that  always  ere  this  day  her  words  had  carried 
more  weight  with  him  than  anybody  else's.  This  new 
and  entirely  unexpected  attitude  on  his  part  cut  her, 
therefore,  to  the  very  heart,  but  she  was  not  disposed 
to  let  him  see  this,  and  so  she  merely  smiled  slightly — a 
bitter,  contemptuous  smile. 

She  was  not  blind  to  the  fact  that  he  looked  remark- 
ably gallant  and  handsome  with  his  steady,  blue  eyes 
bent  grimly  upon  her,  his  mouth  set  as  sternly  as  her  own 
in  his  chivalric  defence  of  his  absent  wife,  and  this  led 
her  to  think  what  a  pity  it  was  that  such  a  man  should 
be  wasted  upon  a  mere  pretty,  capricious  woman,  which 
was  her  most  lenient  verdict  against  Elizabeth. 

"I  never  expected,"  she  said,  icily,  "to  see  you  satis- 
fied with  being  chained  down  in  dull,  tyrannical  domes- 
ticity!" 

His  face  grew  white  with  anger  and  his  eyes  gleamed, 
but  she  took  no  notice  of  these  threatening  signs,  and 

182 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

calmly  continued:  "You  married  in  the  mad  passion 
of  an  unguarded  hour,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  weeks'  de- 
light, for  what  is  vulgarly  called  'eye-love' — you  who 
were  born  inconstant,  as  are  all  the  Habsburgs,  by- 
the-way,  and  soon  the  fetters  so  readily  and  enthusi- 
astically assumed  galled  you.  You  went  through  the 
usual  period  of  wrangling  and  reproaches,  you  who  were 
least  fitted  of  all  men  I  ever  knew  to  endure  such  an 
ordeal.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  your  early 
judgment  of  your  wife  was  crude,  and  how  quickly  the 
glamour  of  your  coup  de  tete  faded  in  the  test  of  constant 
intercourse,  nor  can  you  deny  that  you  have  not  found 
in  her  what  your  heart  and  mind  expected  to  find!" 

Twice  he  tried  to  interrupt  her,  which  was  entirely 
foreign  to  his  ordinary  extreme  courtesy  and  reverence 
of  manner  to  her,  but  with  a  peremptory  wave  of  her 
slender  hand  she  silenced  him. 

"  I  love  you  too  dearly  not  to  feel  utterly  wretched  at 
the  shipwreck  of  your  life  or  at  the  false  light  in  which 
it  makes  you  stand.  Elizabeth  twirls  you  around  her 
little  finger,  makes  you  do  what  she  likes,  and  obliges 
you  to  yield  to  her  every  caprice,  not  because  you  love 
her  still  very  greatly,  but,  on  the  contrary,  because, being 
tired  of  her,  you  wish  to  make  up  in  indulgence  what  you 
lack  in  passion!" 

This  was  a  perfidious  stroke,  a  veritable  coup  dc 
Jarnac,  and  the  Emperor  threw  back  his  head  impa- 
tiently, like  a  mettlesome  charger  about  to  take  the  bit 
between  his  teeth,  but  as  before  the  impassive  Arch- 
duchess gave  him  no  time  for  interruption. 

"You  need  not  look  indignant!  The  price  of  marry- 
ing a  beauty  is  often  very  much  above  that  of  rubies, 
but  you  did  not  know  that  when  you  threw  over  the  im- 
measurably superior  elder  sister  for  her  big-eyed,  white- 
skinned,   auburn  -  locked  junior.     I,  however,   realized 

183 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

how  it  would  be  with  you,  on  that  night  when  you 
waltzed  so  madly  with  Elizabeth,  whirling  her  round 
like  a  baby,  whispering  in  her  ear,  and  crushing  the 
Maiglockchen  of  her  shoulder  bouquet  against  your  breast 
in  the  senseless  infatuation  which  had  seized  you.  From 
that  moment  you  threw  all  prudence  to  the  winds ;  you 
delivered  yourself  bound  hand  and  foot  into  her  hands ; 
you  forgot  your  future,  my  warnings,  anything,  every- 
thing, in  the  momentary  delirium,  which  made  you 
see  life  with  her  '  couleur  de  rose.'  Alas,  with  such  prem- 
ises rhy  prophesies  were  certain  to  come  true,  and — 
they  have!  Your  wife  is  exceedingly  beautiful,  unde- 
niably so,  but  I  look  in  vain  for  any  sterling  qualities  in 
her,  for  one  saving  point  of  unselfishness  or  obedience 
to  your  wishes  or  to  the  exigencies  of  her  high  estate!" 

She  laughed  a  low,  bitter  laugh  that  broke  strangely 
upon  his  ear,  and  very  quietly,  but  with  teeth  set  hard, 
he  answered: 

"Even  you,  mother,  must  not  speak  in  that  manner 
to  me.  Elizabeth  is  as  worthy  of  respect  and  admira- 
tion as  yourself,  and  she  shall  never  be  mentioned  other- 
wise before  me!" 

"Respect!  admiration!  comme  vous  y  allez!  A  wom- 
an who  will  accept  but  the  gilded  and  jewelled  side 
of  her  bargain,  who  shows  consideration  for  nobody, 
refuses  to  accomplish  a  single  one  of  her  duties  as  Em- 
press, as  mother,  or  as  wife;  really,  this  is  asking  rather 
too  much!" 

"Nevertheless,  it  must  be  so!  I  ought  to  have  made 
the  fact  plainer  to  you  sooner,  and  now  I  tell  you  that 
I  intend  to  exact  in  the  future  for  my  wife  that  respect 
which,  thanks  to  my  fear  of  hurting  your  feelings,  has 
not  always  been  shown  to  her!" 

The  Archduchess  rose,  pale  with  astonishment. 

"Does  my  life-long  devotion  to  your  interests  count  for 

184 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

so  little  that  you  dare  to  speak  thus  to  me,  your  mother? 
Do  you  choose  now  to  forget  all  my  affection,  my  un- 
wearing  exertions,  all  I  have  done,  for  the  sake  of  a 
woman  of  whom,  I  repeat  it,  you  are  heartily  tired  in 
spite  of  her  pretty  face  and  seductive  coquetries?" 

He  gave  her  a  look  which  made  even  her  feel  that  for 
once  she  had  gone  too  far. 

"I  trust  that  I  will  never  be  base  enough  to  forget 
what  you  have  done  for  me,  ingratitude  not  being  num- 
bered among  my  vices,  but  neither  will  I  forget — nor  for- 
give— what  you  have  just  said,  nor  the  harshness,  in  the 
mask  of  justice,  the  vexatious  authority,  and  the  cruel 
animosity  you  have  untiringly  displayed  against  your 
innocent  daughter-in-law!  And  now,  permit  me  to  leave 
you ;  I  do  not  wish  to  pursue  a  discussion  which  can  only 
inflict  humiliation  and  sorrow  upon  us  both,  since  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life  I  am  forced  to  resent  what  you  say 
as  a  dishonor  done  to  myself  and  to  what  is  dearest  to 
me!" 

He  bowed  low,  and  left  her,  mortified,  worsted,  impotent 
in  her  rage  and  disappointment,  but  obliged  to  recog- 
nize that  there  had  been  even  less  wisdom  than  usual 
in  her  interference  upon  this  unfortunate  occasion. 

She  sat  for  a  few  minutes  as  one  who  has  been  dealt 
a  heavy  blow  and  is  unable  as  yet  to  realize  it;  then  she 
descended  the  stairs,  where  the  moon  streamed  through 
painted  windows  across  the  broad,  crimson  -  carpeted 
steps  and  the  exquisitely  wrought  balustrade,  towards 
her  private  apartments. 

She  went  slowly,  wearily,  as  if  she  dragged  her  dead 
ambitions  with  her;  her  face  was  very  white,  her  steps 
reluctant,  her  heart  heavy  as  lead,  for  she  had  the 
ghastly  impression  of  having  said  an  eternal  farewell  to 
the  Franz  of  other  days,  and  of  having  destroyed  the  old 
sweet  intimacy  which  had  endured  so  long  between  them. 

185 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

As  she  reached  her  room  her  stern  features  suddenly 
relaxed  and  softened,  and  her  eyes  were  filled  with  un- 
speakable yearning.  Hereafter  there  would  be,  if  she 
judged  rightly,  an  immense  loss,  an  unfilled  void  through- 
out her  remaining  life,  and  tenderness  and  bitterness 
strove  together  in  her  soul,  for  she  had  in  the  last  hour 
cruelly  suffered  in  her  passions  and  in  her  indomitable 
pride.  Her  son,  her  own  beloved  Franz,  had  judged 
and  condemned  her;  his  wife,  whom  she  hated,  had  con- 
demned her  also;  nay,  she — even  she — had  just  con- 
demned herself.  What  was  there  now  left  to  live  for? 
Deeply  perplexed  and  troubled,  she  was  profoundly 
humiliated  and  unspeakably  hurt,  yet  the  fairness  which 
was  in  her  nature,  beneath  all  the  egotism  of  her  iron 
self-reliance,  at  last  conquered  her  terrible  sense  of 
offence,  and  she  realized  that  she  had  much  with  which 
to  reproach  herself. 

Poor  Archduchess  Sophia !  Dreams  are  for  the  happy ; 
she  would  no  longer  indulge  in  any,  and  the  one  she 
had  dreamed  so  long  was  now  dead,  dead  as  a  drowned 
creature  lying  many  fathoms  deep  at  the  bottom  of  the 
sea.  For  a  little  while  her  agony  was  greater  than  even 
she  had  strength  to  bear;  for  this  last  experience  had 
been  of  the  kind  which  strips  the  heart  bare  and  unveils 
the  innermost  recesses  of  the  soul,  and  the  wound  in- 
flicted was  one  which  would  never  close. 

The  infinite  peace  of  the  night  seemed  to  lie  like  a 
benediction  on  the  immense,  silent  palace,  but  she  knew 
that  in  her  bruised,  weary  heart  there  was  no  peace 
and  never  would  be  more — in  that  heart  where  but  one 
name,  her  son's,  had  ever  been  written;  and  she  wept 
bitterly  the  burning,  inconsolable  tears  of  those  whom 
age  has  already  touched  with  its  blighting  wand  and 
who  have  but  little  left  to  hope  for.  Once  again,  never- 
theless, she  steeled  herself,  gathered  the  remnants  of  her 

186 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

pride  about  her,  coldly  and  hardily,  and  with  a  strong 
effort  of  self-control  effaced,  as  she  believed,  every  out- 
ward trace  of  the  tempest  which  had  overborne  her, 
ere  she  reappeared  before  the  partisans  and  antagonists 
to  whom  she  scorned  to  betray  any  emotion.  But  all 
becomes  very  swiftly  known  at  Court,  and  her  sufferings 
would  not  have  been  lightened  had  she  been  aware  that 
by  night  the  defeat  of  Madame  Mere  was  discussed  in 
whispers  all  over  the  Hofburg. 

How  long  ago  all  this  took  place,  and  yet  how  present 
still  to  the  minds  of  those  who  witnessed  the  eighteen- 
year-long  struggle  between  the  mother  and  the  wife  of 
Francis-Joseph,  in  those  days  when  the  phrase,  Vox 
Sophia  vox  Dei,  was  a  familiar  saying  at  Vienna! 

Are  they  now  reconciled,  those  rivals,  both  so  dif- 
ferently beautiful  and  gifted — the  one,  untiring  in  her 
devotion,  and  the  other,  unfaltering  in  her  love — the 
imperious  mistress  of  statecraft,  who  scarcely  deigned 
to  conceal  her  power  behind  the  throne,  and  the  noble 
woman  who  sat  upon  it,  her  sweet  head  bowed  beneath 
the  weight  of  her  crown? 

Their  place  knows  them  no  more;  they  are  gone  like 
the  snows  of  past  winters  that  have  drifted  silently 
upon  the  cloister  roofs  beneath  which,  closed  in  darkness, 
they  lie  together.     "Mais  oil  sont  les  neiges  d'antan?" 

Tell  me,  sprites  of  a  twilight  name, 

Dwelling  under  what  sky  of  gold 
Is  Archippa  of  antique  fame, 

Flora,  Thais,  of  lovely  mould? 
Over  the  evening  waters  cold, 

Echo,  bowered  in  fern  and  rose, 
Laugheth  low  to  the  question  old, 

"Ah!  and  where  are  the  winter  snows?" 

Where  is  Heloise — scorning  blame 
All  for  love  of  the  wise  and  bold, 
187 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

All  for  Abelard,  sunk  in  shame, 

Shut  in  Saint  Denys'  cloistered  fold? 

Where  the  queen  at  whose  mandate  rolled 
Seine  o'er  Buridan's  head?     There  blows 

Far  faint  answer  across  the  wold, 

"Ah!  and  where  are  the  winter  snows?" 

Lissome  Blanchefleur,  the  siren  dame, 

Alys  of  Le  Mans*  warrior  hold, 
Jeanne — alas!  to  the  English  flame 

Doomed  at  Rouen,  betrayed  and  sold, 
Berthe  au  grand  pied  of  whom  is  told 

Oft  the  story  in  rhyme  and  prose, 
Where  is  their  beauty  enshrined  and  scrolled? 

"Ah!  and  where  are  the  winter  snows?" 

Live  thy  day  that  the  Fates  have  doled 

Lady,  lest  when  the  question  goes 
Where  thou  art,  be  the  answer  trolled, 

"Ah!  and  where  are  the  winter  snows?" 

M.  M. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

April  29th,  1859!  Yet  another  of  those  dates  which 
should  be  marked  in  darkest  hue  on  Emperor  Francis- 
Joseph's  life-calendar,  for  again  a  great  tumult  sounded 
throughout  his  Italian  provinces,  and  was  borne  nearer 
and  nearer  to  the  Austrian  border,  like  the  roar  of  a  sul- 
lenly surging  sea,  sending  its  muffled  but  ominous  echoes 
to  far-away  Vienna. 

Lombardy  and  Venetia  were  athirst  for  freedom,  and 
the  tramp  of  the  Austrian  army  of  occupation,  ringing 
upon  the  pavements  of  their  cities,  had  become  unen- 
durable to  the  sons  of  those  sun-girt  lands. 

Victor-Emmanuel  of  Sardinia,  who,  more  prudent  than 
his  father  had  been  in  1849,  now  allied  himself  with  that 
king  of  adventurers,  Napoleon  III.,  took  the  field — 
paradoxical  as  it  sounds — as  the  defender  of  the  Re- 
publican party,  and  their  combined  forces  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty  thousand  men  came  down  to  confront  Aus- 
tria's army,  which  consisted  at  the  outset  of  the  cam- 
paign of  not  more  than  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand! 

Again  the  flowery  plains,  the  soft,  green  meadows  of 
Lombardy,  the  deep  vine  shadows  and  the  sweet  moun- 
tain stillness  of  Tuscany,  flecked  with  the  royally  blue 
irises  of  Dante — those  irises  blossoming  in  such  extrava- 
gant profusion  in  the  maize  crops  and  on  the  olive  slopes 
alike — again  the  pearl-hued  lagoons  of  dreamy  Venice, 
the  poplar  and  acacia-shadowed  Brenta,  the  golden  mil- 
let fields,  and  narcissus-scented  pastures  of  the  Veneto 
were  convulsed  by  the  old  war-cry,  "  Vivd  la  libertd!" 

189 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

and  the  zest  for  slaughter  which  had  burned  so  fiercely 
ten  years  before  broke  out  with  renewed  vigor  in  the 
Austrian  as  well  as  the  Italian  ranks. 

When  Francis-Joseph  received  the  news  of  the  defeat 
at  Magenta,  a  terrible  bitterness  and  a  wellnigh  unen- 
durable pain  overcame  him.  Hardly  could  he  believe 
his  senses  and  realize  the  extent  of  this  misfortune. 

His  wife,  his  mother,  his  whole  family  and  entourage 
were  amazed  and  terrified  by  the  unnatural  calm  and 
the  set,  repressed  anguish  which  made  him  look  as  if  he 
had  suddenly  been  changed  into  stone. 

This  shame,  netting  him  tight,  was  the  cruellest  suffer- 
ing he  had  as  yet  undergone ;  even  when  he  had  seen  the 
small,  waxen  face  of  his  first-born,  Archduchess  Sophia's 
tiny  namesake,  pillowed  in  the  snowy  roses  of  her  little 
coffin,  his  pain  had  not  been  so  great. 

He  was  silent,  because  had  he  spoken  all  the  courage, 
all  the  self-control  that  pride  and  high-breeding  sus- 
tained in  him,  would  have  been  utterly  shattered. 

Another  moment  given  to  pull  himself  together,  and 
the  chivalrous  pride,  the  resourceful  endurance,  the 
knightly  instinct  that  were  in  him  flashed  into  fire  and 
leaped  into  action,  and  all  he  felt,  all  he  thought,  was 
to  fly  to  the  rescue,  and  to  lose  his  life  like  the  soldier 
and  the  noble  gentleman  he  was,  rather  than  that  in 
his  absence  his  armies  should  be  vanquished. 

The  Habsburg  blood,  that  never  took  well  to  defeat, 
was  aroused  now,  and  the  prospect  of  fighting  thrilled 
through  him  with  glad  energy,  and  without  another  in- 
stant's pause  or  backward  look  he  determined  to  take 
over  in  person  the  command  of  his  troops. 

Yet  his  eyes  fell  sadly  upon  his  young  wife,  whose 
auburn  head  nestled  upon  his  shoulder,  the  fragrance 
of  whose  lips  breathed  so  near  his  own,  and  who  at  that 
minute  would  have  joyfully  given  all  her  Imperial  state, 

190 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

her  matchless  jewels,  her  countless  privileges;  ah!  yes, 
would  even  readily  have  shorn  off  the  marvellous  tresses 
of  which  she  was  so  proud,  to  keep  him  with  her  a  few 
weeks,  a  few  days  longer. 

His  voice  was  low,  his  smile  very  gentle,  as  he  tried 
to  comfort  her;  his  hand  held  hers  in  a  tender  clasp, 
and  she  could  feel  his  heart  beat  loud  and  quick  against 
her  own  as  his  lips  touched  her  brow,  where  she  stood 
within  the  circle  of  his  arms,  a  nervous  shudder  running 
through  her  frame,  heavy  tears  stealing  down  one  by 
one,  and  falling  like  dew-drops  upon  the  cluster  of  vio- 
lets at  her  breast. 

Archduchess  Sophia,  although  bitterly  hurt  as  usual, 
when  not  considered  first,  stood  beside  them  without 
a  trace  of  her  customary  stern  rebuke  of  manner,  and 
on  noticing  this  the  Emperor's  face  lightened  with  a 
pleasure  and  a  relief  that  changed  it  wonderfully,  his 
blue  eyes  darkening  and  gleaming  strangely  as  a  swift 
hope  came  to  him  of  sweetness  and  peace,  during  an 
absence  which  might  last  perhaps  forever,  reigning  be- 
tween the  two  beings  dearest  to  him  on  earth,  and 
replacing  the  bitter  strife  or  the  icy  coldness  which  al- 
ternated between  them  since  five  long  years. 

Our  natures  are  oddly  constructed  and  oddly  incon- 
sistent. Archduchess  Sophia  hated  her  daughter-in- 
law,  yet  it  gave  her  many  a  bitter  pang  that  she  should 
not  have  turned  to  her  for  comfort  when  the  man  whom 
they  both  loved  so  exclusively  and  passionately  had 
left  them  alone  together,  but  her  social  philosophy — 
if  philosophy  it  was — and  her  unimpaired  imperiousness 
allowed  no  sign  of  this  curious  feeling  to  escape  her, 
even  when  sleeplessness,  anxiety,  misery,  and  the  despair 
of  such  a  separation  had  made  Elizabeth  look  like  a 
lovely  little  white  ghost,  and  when  even  she,  "Sophia 
the  Pitiless,"  pitied  her  from  her  very  heart. 

191 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Francis-Joseph  went  straight  to  Verona.  A  sorry, 
desolate  city  during  the  warring  days  that  followed,  and 
which  in  that  hot  June  seemed  drowned  in  white  dust, 
and  very  dreary,  with  its  lofty,  empty  houses,  its  crum- 
bling palazzios,  its  frightened  inhabitants,  skulking  away 
in  terror  at  the  sight  of  every  "white-coat." 

Little,  however,  did  the  Emperor  notice  the  dusty 
wretchedness  of  Juliet's  birth-place,  the  pitiable  ravages 
wrought  by  time,  neglect,  and  plunder,  nor  its  dreary, 
dirty,  dismal  comfortlessness,  for  his  destiny  was  rush- 
ing him  headlong  into  a  far  deeper  and  more  inpene- 
trable  gloom  than  that  which  obscured  those  sombre, 
narrow  streets  and  piazzettas,  lined  with  rows  of  stunted, 
sickly  trees,  crippled  by  the  simoom-like,  scorohing  wind 
which  blows  almost  constantly  from  the  mountains. 

Heaven  forefend  that  I  should  attempt  to  write  a 
description  of  that  fateful  battle,  over  whidh  the  colors 
of  France,  Italy,  and  Austria  waved,  where  Francis- 
Joseph,  Victor-Emmanuel,  and  Napoleon  III.,  surrounded 
by  the  flower  of  their  armies,  fought  with  such  deadly 
results  that  the  carnage  of  that  day  is  still  alluded  to 
with  awe,  and  during  which  the  combatants  grappled 
with  such  ferocity  in  hand-to-hand  struggle  that  even 
in  the  embrace  of  death  the  bleeding,  exhausted,  quiver- 
ing men  rolled  over  each  other  in  such  an  inextricable 
tangle  and  confusion  that  they  had  to  be  buried  as 
they  fell,  still  clutching  one  another's  throats. 

Those  who  fought  then  and  survived  never  quite  got 
out  of  their  ears  the  thunder,  the  turmoil,  the  deafening 
roar — shaking  the  very  earth  with  its  dreadful  echoes — 
that  they  heard  that  day,  nor  out  of  their  eyes  the  look  of 
the  battle-field  of  Solferino,  packed  so  closely  with  dead 
and  dying  that  the  blood-soaked  ground,  crimson  and 
noisome,  was  scarcely  visible,  the  wounded,  in  horrible 
companionship  with  the  torn  and  scorched  corpses  of 

192 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

those  killed  by  the  near  explosion  of  shells,  writhing  in 
torture  and  shrieking  wildly  for  a  help  that  never  came 
to  them ! 

Scenes,  indeed,  to  make  the  strongest  man,  the  bravest 
soldier,  reel  and  stagger  with  disgust  and  pity  amid  the 
hiss  and  crash  and  shock  of  this  sanguinary  struggle  of 
more  than  three  hundred  thousand  men! 

A  devil  rose  in  me  every  time  I  heard  about  it!  alas,  in 
my  but  poorly  tamed  nature  it  still  rises  when  I  remem- 
ber what  my  father,  who  was  present,  told  one  day  to  a 
friend  of  the  heroic  fight  of  Solferino,  little  guessing  that 
crouching  behind  a  curtain  I  was  listening  to  what  nat- 
urally I  but  barely  understood  then,  yet  heard,  with  my 
little  teeth  clenched  and  my  baby  heart  beating  hard 
against  my  ribs  at  these  horrors  which  had  taken  place 
three  years  before  ever  I  was  born! 

What  a  sight  it  must  have  been  on  the  morning  of  that 
decisive  day,  when  the  rising  sun  glittered  on  a  forest  of 
lances,  sabres,  and  bayonets,  and  turned  the  gay  accou- 
trements of  the  cavalry  into  a  glorious  mass  of  color; 
when  the  silvery  sound  of  trumpets  rang  merrily  through 
the  clear  air! 

What  a  night,  when  a  pitiless,  drenching  downpour  of 
ink-black,  smoke-tainted  rain  soaked  through  those  poor, 
mutilated  wretches,  heaped  up,  with  twisted  limbs  and 
distorted  faces,  like  the  carcasses  of  sheep  in  a  slaughter- 
house, under  the  added  misery  of  that  furious  storm, 
which  followed  shot  and  fire  with  such  awful  sudden- 
ness! 

The  story  of  that  battle  has  been  oft  and  well  told,  and 
none,  neither  the  Italians,  the  French,  nor  even  the  Gari- 
baldians — a  race  apart,  since  bloodthirstiness  and  love  of 
eternal  strife  and  of  anarchy  have  caused  them  to  take  a 
hand  in  nearly  every  conflict  in  which  they  have  been 
allowed  to  mingle — have  denied  the  fact  that  among 
13  193 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

those  splendid  fighters  of  many  different  nationalities 
none  displayed  greater  courage  and  sang-froid  than  the 
young  Emperor  and  generalissimo  of  the  Austrian 
phalanxes. 

Fear  was  always  to  him  unknown,  but  on  that  day  his 
courage  can  be  called  by  no  milder  name  than  heroism, 
and  the  rashness  with  which  he  exposed  his  life  filled 
all  who  were  at  his  side  with  a  sort  of  awe,  for  to  escape 
without  a  scratch  from  such  perils,  he  must,  indeed,  have 
borne  a  charmed  life. 

But  why  dwell  on  the  boundless  calamity  by  which 
Francis-Joseph  was  overtaken!  One  could  write  and 
write  and  write,  and  yet  not  convey  any  adequate  idea  of 
the  hot,  angered  sense  of  adverse  fate  which  filled  his 
soul  throughout  that  disastrous  campaign,  and  especially 
of  the  hours  of  agony  he  spent  at  Solferino,  watching 
with  dry,  strained  eyes,  like  one  numbed  and  stupefied, 
the  annihilation  of  his  regiments,  vainly  searching  the 
horizon  with  his  field-glasses  to  the  east  and  west,  the 
north  and  the  south,  for  something  in  sight  that  could 
give  him  aid  or  hope. 

Idle  it  is,  indeed,  to  dwell  upon  so  great  a  grief,  so 
deep  a  humiliation,  or  to  attempt  a  lengthy  mention  of 
the  despair  which  finally  made  him  eager  to  die  because 
wellnigh  all  else  but  life  itself  was  lost  to  him,  and  im- 
pelled him  to  walk  his  charger  slowly  to  the  front  of 
battle  under  so  merciless  a  hail  of  fire  and  shot  that  all 
those  about  him  were  falling  in  swarms.  Yes,  walk, 
quite  calmly  and  determinedly,  checking  at  last  his 
fretting,  terrorized  horse  with  one  brutal  twist  of  his 
iron  wrist,  to  stand  gazing  blindly  before  him,  like  a 
man  lost  in  the  darkness,  too  sick  at  heart,  too  weary, 
too  filled  with  horrible  agony,  to  ask  aught  but  death 
from  the  cruelly  chastising  hand  of  fate,  and  yet  half 
doubting  whether  this  misery,  this  burning,  degrading 

194 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

humiliation   were   not,   after    all,  perchance,  the   mere 
visions  of  a  waking  nightmare. 

How  the  hours  that  followed  this  mad  attempt  to  be 
killed,  and  thus  redeem  the  shame  of  his  defeat,  were 
spent,  Francis- Joseph  could  never  recall  in  full.  Vague 
memories  remained  with  him  of  being  forced  away  from 
his  untenable  position,  of  seeking,  by  dint  of  bodily  fa- 
tigue, to  kill  at  least  the  torturing  thoughts  rising  in 
him,  of  watching  the  lurid  light  of  the  setting  sun  as  he 
had  done  eleven  years  before  at  Santa  Lucia,  but  with  an 
infinite  sense  of  irreparable  loss,  of  endless  calamity  upon 
him,  which  had  assuredly  not  pressed  upon  his  soul  in 
those  by -gone  days  of  youthful  enthusiasm  and  triumph, 
and  of  ever  and  anon  being  roused  to  the  consciousness 
of  the  weight  of  shame  which  had  just  rolled  in  upon 
him  like  the  towering  waves  of  some  furious  sea  that 
sweeps  all  before  it. 

Fortunately  there  are,  in  the  list  of  the  world's  infinite 
sorrows,  but  few  such  as  that  which  weighed  upon  Em- 
peror Francis  -  Joseph  on  the  night  that  followed  the 
great  battle. 

The  unfortunate  Sovereign  thought  then  that  no  great- 
er ordeal  could  have  been  laid  upon  him,  but,  though  he 
staggered  under  it,  yet  when  the  Italian  provinces  were 
forever  lost  to  the  Empire,  when  the  blood-tinted  smoke 
of  Solferino  lifted  from  his  horizon,  he  still  stood  erect 
with  his  old  dauntlessness ;  his  spirit  unbroken,  his  forti- 
tude reconquered;  and  his  youth — he  was  only  twenty- 
nine — which  made  him  feel  the  stroke  so  keenly,  gave 
him  also  strength  for  that  greater  blow  when,  in  1866, 
the  Prussians  added  Koniggratz  to  the  already  then  so 
lengthy  list  of  his  sorrows.  Then,  indeed,  his  heart 
almost  broke  in  this  supreme  and  paralyzing  horror, 
and  quivering  in  the  helplessness  and  anguish  which 
even  his  noble  nature  could  not  vanquish,  his  unwaver- 

19s 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ing  heroism  conquer,  he  came  nigh  to  draining  his  cup 
of  bitterness  to  the  dregs,  and  in  a  few  hours  lived  a 
martyrdom  which  crushed  and  maimed  his  very  soul. 

Among  his  most  trying  experiences,  in  connection  with 
the  Six  Weeks'  War,  was  the  reception  at  Vienna  of  those 
German  Sovereigns  who,  in  consequence  of  their  hav- 
ing espoused  his  cause  against  the  Prussians,  had  been 
driven  from  their  dominions,  and  in  several  cases  de- 
prived of  their  thrones.  Each  one  of  them  was  wel- 
comed at  the  railroad-station  on  their  arrival  with  all 
sovereign  honors— the  blind  King  of  Hanover,  who  had 
fought  with  such  heroism  at  the  Battle  of  Langenzalza, 
and  his  son,  the  Crown-Prince,  now  so  well  known  and 
liked  throughout  Austria  as  the  Duke  of  Cumberland, 
the  aged  King  of  Saxony,  the  surly  and  cantankerous 
Elector  of  Hesse,  and  the  Duke  of  Nassau,  who,  after  a 
quarter  of  a  century  spent  in  delightful  exile  at  Vienna, 
was  to  recover,  not  the  throne  that  he  had  lost,  but  an- 
other, namely,  that  of  the  Grand  Duchy  of  Luxemburg. 
The  Emperor,  realizing  as  he  did  that  they  had  risked 
their  crowns  for  the  sake  of  their  friendship  to  Austria 
and  the  House  of  Habsburg,  felt  that  each  of  these  drives 
to  receive  them  to  and  from  the  railroad-station  was  a 
painful  pilgrimage  indeed. 

Not  yet,  however,  had  he  reached  the  summit  of  his 
Calvary.  All  was  not  said  and  done,  nor  had  the  sword 
that  was  to  doubly  pierce  the  very  roots  of  his  being  as 
yet  fallen,  had  he  only  known  it;  but  God,  in  His  mercy, 
has  hidden  the  future  for  us,  else  few  would  care  to  go  on 
living. 

Under  the  green  leafage  of  Schonbrunn,  harmonious 
with  the  melody  of  innumerable  song-birds — amid  the 
cool,  fountain-splashed  parterres  and  velvety  lawns,  so 
sweet  and  full  of  peace  and  fragrance,  so  entrancingly 
beautiful  after  the  scorched,  blood-stained  Italian  plains, 

196 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

where  so  many  of  Austria's  sons  had  found  a  heroic 
death— the  dazzling  creature  who  was  his  wife  gave  a 
deep-drawn  sigh  of  joy  when  once  she  had  him  back, 
when  his  arms  were  about  her  again,  and  her  head  rested 
on  his  breast. 

The  keenest  pain  can  be  lulled  to  sleep  by  a  great 
love ;  and  in  the  intoxication  of  finding  her  more  tender 
than  she  had  ever  been  before,  in  the  second  honeymoon 
which  followed  his  return,  he  found  a  momentary  forget - 
fulness  of  the  memories  which  haunted  him,  and  was 
almost  happy  again — almost,  I  say  it  advisedly,  for  he 
never  could  wholly  cast  aside  the  sickening  sense  of  all 
the  slaughter  of  life  and  pride  he  had  witnessed  and 
sustained  at  Solferino. 

Light  and  coloring,  the  transparent  shadows  of  leafy 
depths,  the  fragrance  of  countless  blossoms,  the  spark- 
ling spray  of  jets  d'eau  were  a  fitting  frame  for  this  short 
renouveau  of  mutual  love  and  understanding,  a  becom- 
ing background  for  the  lovely  face  and  form  of  his 
Elizabeth,  looking  now  so  proudly  at  him  out  of  her 
great,  deep  eyes;  but  the  rose-garlanded  terraces  of 
Schonbrunn  were  not  secluded  enough  in  their  opinion, 
and  so  they  withdrew  to  the  solitude  of  Laxenburg  and 
fell  to  watching  the  silvery  rays  of  the  moon  lighting  the 
foliage,  the  rolling  charmilles,  the  glancing  lily-studded 
waters  of  the  lake,  or  lost  themselves  amid  the  shadowy 
green  of  the  fair  summer  landscape,  enjoying,  for  once, 
in  all  its  fulness  and  quite  unhindered,  that  love  which 
comes  but  rarely  to  ennoble,  soften,  and  endear  life. 

He  was  wholly  her  own  now;  and  when  he  looked  upon 
the  extraordinary  fairness  of  her  face  he  felt  that  she 
was  the  one  woman  he  had  loved  or  would  ever  really 
love  with  that  passion  which  is  of  the  mind  and  heart 
as  well  as  of  the  senses,  that  she  shared  his  life  as  no 
other  would  ever  share  it,  that  the  world  held  no  sweeter 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

music  than  her  voice,  and  that  his  pride  was  wholly 
centred  in  her  matchless  beauty  and  goodness,  in  her 
sovereign  grace  and  charm ;  for  during  those  short  weeks 
of  absolute  bliss  there  seemed  to  radiate  about  this  ex- 
quisite woman  and  this  man,  bruised  and  stunned  by 
an  almost  insupportable  blow,  an  effulgence,  pure,  cloud- 
less, glorified,  God-sent,  and  which  neither  of  them  ever 
forgot. 

Neither  of  them  thought  now  of  the  patrician,  seduc- 
tive, dusky-eyed  blonde  who,  according  to  the  chronique 
scandaleuse  of  the  Court,  had  been  more  or  less  favored 
now  and  again,  until  the  dark  shadow  of  war  had  rele- 
gated to  oblivion  both  the  cause  and  the  effect  of  this 
gossip. 

The  persevering  lady,  persevering  in  her  purpose  as 
in  her  unimpaired  charms,  still  enjoyed  posing  as  the 
wife  and  victim  of  a  Caliban,  but  she  had  given  up  be- 
ing quite  as  over-careful  about  violating  conventionali- 
ties as  when  she  was  still  little  more  than  a  bride,  and 
she  had  become  very  "rapid"  indeed,  in  a  quaint, 
languid,  poetic,  inimitable  manner,  which  was  exces- 
sively attractive  to  the  strong  sex.  She  could  with  jus- 
tice pique  herself  on  her  skill,  and  there  was  a  cham- 
pagne draught  of  mirth  and  mischief  in  her  coquetries, 
a  half -reckless,  half-scientific  chic  about  her  which  few 
could  resist. 

This  charmeuse  par  excellence  still  held  her  place  secure- 
ly, nevertheless,  in  the  highest  rank  of  the  most  fastidi- 
ous and  exclusive  Court  of  Europe.  To  be  distinguish- 
ed by  her  was  still  an  honor;  and  the  chains  she  cast 
about  men  were  made  of  roses ;  but,  for  all  that,  her  clev- 
erly tinted  presentation  of  a  femme  incomprise  chimed 
less  harmoniously  with  the  rest  of  her  now  more  dash- 
ing methods,  which  was  a  pity,  for  the  premiere  maniere 
had  been  far  better  suited  to  her  style. 

198 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

But,  for  all  that,  the  cruel  stroke  of  doubt  and  of  jeal- 
ousy had  not  struck  the  less  near  home,  and  gentle  though 
Empress  Elizabeth's  nature  was,  beyond  all  forgive- 
ness was  the  little  triumphant  smile  with  which  her 
wicked  rival  had  tantalized  her  for  so  long  wherever 
they  chanced  to  meet — a  smile  which  galled  her  more 
than  any  knowledge  of  the  fancied  or  real  flirtations  in 
other  directions  so  ruthlessly  reported  to  her,  for  this 
woman  had  been,  she  knew,  her  Franz's  first  infatua- 
tion, and  in  this  she  saw  a  particular  danger  to  her- 
self. 

The  halcyon  days  after  his  return  from  the  war  were 
all  the  more  precious  to  the  young  wife  because  she  so 
greatly  feared  that  a  season,  a  month,  a  few  hours,  might 
be  the  only  respite  of  a  full  quietude  left  her,  the  only 
pause  between  perfect  bliss  and  the  fiat  of  desolation, 
of  anxious,  restless  misery  she  already  knew  so  well: 
for  Elizabeth,  in  the  midst  of  all  that  was  highest,  fairest, 
greatest,  and  most  bewitching,  surrounded  by  the  in- 
cessant whirlpool  of  pleasure  and  splendor  of  her 
husband's  brilliant  Court,  felt  utterly  alone,  utterly 
wretched,  utterly  beggared  and  downcast,  when  these 
doubts  and  jealousies,  which  stung  her  like  scourges,  as- 
sailed her. 

Walking  with  him  in  the  park  at  Laxenburg — that 
fairy  castle  which  mirrors  its  ivy -hung  facade,  its 
peaked  turrets,  its  stone  balustrades  covered  with 
the  broad,  lustrous  leaves  of  creepers  and  the  profuse 
blossoms  of  twining  roses,  in  the  smooth  waters  of  its 
encircling  lake — her  irresistible  loveliness  sweeping  over 
him  like  the  intoxication  of  some  penetrating  fragrance, 
feeling  without  the  chance  of  a  doubt  that  she  had 
drawn  him  at  last  completely  within  the  charmed  circle 
of  her  power,  she  was  so  absurdly  happy  that  she  in- 
voluntarily thought  of  Friar  Laurence's  prophetic 

199 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

'  These  violent  delights  have  violent  ends, 
And  in  their  triumph  die;  like  fire  and  powder, 
Which  as  they  kiss  consume!" — 


and  this  often  caused  her  eyes  to  rest  upon  him  with  a 
mournful  tenderness  she  could  not  conceal,  nor  he,  alas, 
fail  to  understand. 

The  stamp  of  their  bitter  fate  was  still  upon  them  in 
a  sort  of  hazy  fashion,  for  the  wounds  they  had  both  re- 
ceived were  too  recent  to  be  entirely  closed — healed  they 
never  were  quite,  as  I  have  already  said.  To  him  the  mem- 
ory of  his  defeat,  of  all  the  gallant-hearted  men  who 
had  gone  out  so  cheerily  to  their  death,  and  whose 
bodies  had'fallen  so  thickly  among  the  crushed  lav- 
ender bushes  and  uprooted  olive  plantations  of  Solfe- 
rino,  was  far  too  fresh  not  to  still  make  him  wince,  while 
to  her  the  thought  of  Archduchess  Sophia's  sweeping  con- 
tempt was  like  a  menace  looming  over  her  future;  and 
yet — and  yet — those  sweet  hours  of  reprieve  were  an 
ever-renewed  delight,  which  nothing  could  really  spoil 
or  overshadow. 

One  night  they  had  stepped  out  upon  the  terrace  to 
watch  the  soft  ripple  of  the  moon  on  the  water,  the 
scintillating  of  the  stars  repeated  in  diamond-like  sparks 
between  the  pale-green  spots  of  the  floating  lily-pads. 
There  was  no  sound  save  the  soft,  sweet  gush  of  the 
nightingale's  songs  close  by,  in  a  mass  of  foliage  span- 
gled with  bloom,  and  the  gentle  breath  of  a  faint 
breeze  ruffling  the  great,  dark  draperies  of  ivy  behind 
them. 

Such  an  hour  is  rare  in  any  life;  in  theirs  it  was  al- 
most unique. 

All  the  Emperor's  reawakened  passion  stirred  at  the 
sight  of  the  delicate,  smiling  face  of  his  young  wife,  now 
quite  her  own  radiant  self  again,  and  who,  when  she 

200 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

lifted  her  lustrous  eyes  to  his,  betrayed  so  naively  her 
joy  and  her  love  that  his  heart  grew  heavy  with  con- 
scious remorse. 

Perchance,  he  thought  of  that  moment  when,  with 
unconquerable  emotion,  he  had  slipped  over  her  slender 
finger  the  golden  badge  of  woman's  servitude  as  she 
knelt  by  his  side  at  the  altar,  her  retinue  of  Royal  and 
Imperial  bridesmaids  behind  her;  of  the  exquisite  young 
face  and  form  seen  to  full  advantage  for  the  first  time 
through  showers  of  priceless  bridal  lace ;  of  the  trusting, 
almost  pathetic  adoration  of  her  glance  as  she  shyly 
peeped  at  him  through  her  filmy  veils,  and  of  the  fond, 
proud,  whispered  words  of  tender  encouragement  he  had 
murmured  to  her  as  they  had  passed  out  of  the  dazzlingly 
illuminated,  flower-filled  Court  Chapel,  between  the  bow- 
ing rows  of  their  courtiers — joined  together  for  life,  "for 
better  or  worse,"  whatever  ill,  whatever  joy  might 
come,  with  no  possibility  to  ever  unsolder  the  chains 
forged  by  Holy  Mother  Church. 

"For  better,  for  worse!"  Poor  little  girl — great  Em- 
press though  she  was — had  it  not  been  already  too  often 
"for  worse  "! 

He  bent  over  her  with  the  deepest  tenderness  she  had 
ever  awakened  in  him. 

"Elsie!" 

It  was  only  one  short  word,  but  it  was  also  the  name 
he  used  rarely  when  they  were  quite,  quite  alone,  in  mo- 
ments of  absolute  abandon. 

She  started  slightly,  and  clung  to  him,  while  he  threw 
his  arms  about  her  and  drew  her  very  close,  pressing 
his  lips  passionately  to  hers. 

"My  little  Elsie!  my  sweetheart!  my  own,  precious 
darling!"  he  murmured.  "I  have  not  always  been  as 
kind  to  you  as  you  deserve ;  but  it  was  not  from  lack  of 
love.     Will  you  believe  that,  at  least?" 

2<H 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

"Hush!  hush!"  she  whispered,  with  a  fleeting  up- 
ward glance  into  his  eyes,  where  tears  had  risen,  and 
then  a  swift,  almost  frightened  droop  of  her  graceful 
head  upon  his  heart. 

She  was  too  deeply  moved,  too  shy  of  this  renewed  joy 
to  speak,  and  for  many  minutes  she  could  not  even  tell 
him  that  all  her  trust  and  confidence  had  been  resur- 
rected by  what  he  had  just  said. 

At  last,  he  spoke  again. 

"You  cannot  realize  all  I  have  suffered,  all  my  temp- 
tations, all  my  struggles.  I  am  not  trying  to  excuse 
myself,  my  dearest  one!  I  know  too  well  how  wrong  I 
have  been;  but  I  wish  to  throw  from  my  conscience  a 
heavy  busden,  heavier  far  since  your  merciful  forget- 
fulness  of  your  wrongs,  your  noble  generosity  in  not 
once  alluding  to  them  in  our  present  solitude.  My  own 
love !  what  words  can  tell  you  all  you  have  always  been 
and  will  always  be  to  me,  nor  how  I  missed  you  and 
thought  of  you  constantly  throughout  this  long,  heart- 
breaking campaign!  I  must  have  been  mad  at  Solferino. 
I  longed  to  fall  in  the  field,  but  not  a  bullet  would  hit 
me.  Austria  beaten!  I  did  not  know  how  to  endure  it. 
I  remember  that  when  I  rallied  my  poor  soldiers  at  the 
last,  the  remainder  of  those  brave  men  whom  death  alone 
had  vanquished,  I  cried:  'Vorwdrts,  Thr  Braven,  auch  ich 
habe  Weib  und  Kind  zu  verlieren!'  and  the  thought 
of  you  and  of  our  little  ones  gave  me  a  sudden  renewal 
of  strength  and  of  hope,  just  as  my  words  urged  my 
troops  on  to  such  acts  of  valor  that  MacMahon  is  reported 
to  have  said  afterwards:  'Encore  une  victoire  comme 
celle-la  et  nous  rentrerons  en  France  sans  armee.'  I 
prayed  for  death  after  that,  Elsie;  I  prayed  for  death, 
prayed  as  I  never  prayed  for  anything  else  in  my 
life;  and  yet  I  am  no  coward.  But  there  are  sights 
and  thoughts  that  may  well  turn  men  insane,  and  which 

202 


A    KEYSTONE    OP    EMPIRE 

are  only  lived  through  at  the  cost  of  every  quivering 
nerve  and  fibre  of  one's  being!" 

She  shuddered.  What  comfort  had  she  to  give  him 
for  such  recollections?  She  could  only  cling  to  him 
tighter,  and  vow  that  henceforth  she  would  try  to  make 
his  life  happy  again. 

It  was  then  that  Elizabeth  really  first  learned  the 
depths  of  tenderness,  gentleness,  and  affection  of  her 
husband's  nature,  and  all  he  whispered  to  her  on  that 
blissful  night  was  a  dearer  remembrance  than  aught  else 
in  the  bitter  years  that  followed. 

They  stayed  long  in  love's  delicious  solitude,  under 
the  clear,  twinkling  stars,  and  she  was  so  happy,  lean- 
ing, in  her  snowy  draperies,  against  her  tall,  stalwart,  re- 
conquered lover,  that  she  thanked  God  aloud  for  this 
new  delight  which  had  come  into  her  life,  tears  of  pure 
rapture  wetting  her  long  lashes;  and  that  when  nearly 
twenty  years  later  she  told  me  of  the  pathetic  little 
scene  I  have  just  tried  to  describe,  her  voice  trembled 
and  her  glorious  eyes  filled  at  the  mere  memory  of  it. 

When  they  re-entered  the  castle  that  night  there  was 
such  gladness  in  her  face,  so  fond  a  smile  on  her  lips, 
and  so  exquisite  a  flush  upon  her  velvety  cheeks  that 
he  told  her  he  had  never  seen  anything  so  beautiful  as 
she.     And  he  was  a  connoisseur! 

And  what  do  you  think  that  she,  in  her  extraordinary 
humility,  had  replied  to  his  confession,  to  his  bitter  self- 
reproaches,  to  his  passionate  admiration  of  her  pure 
stainlessness  and  goodness? 

" Oh!  I  have  so  little  merit.  An  Empress  is  so  fenced 
in  and  guarded  that  she  can  do  no  wrong,  at  least  no 
serious  wrong,  even  if  she  wished  it,  and  I  never  did! 
While  a  man,  especially  when  he  is  a  high  and  mighty 
and  handsome  Sovereign  like  my  Franz,  is  assailed  on 
all  sides  by  temptations.     It  is  the  women  who  are  to 

203 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

blame,  the  wicked  temptresses!"  and  she  clenched  her 
little,  pearly  teeth  fiercely  as  she  thought  of  all  those 
Circes  pursuing  him  with  their  wiles  and  allurements! 

This  portion  of  their  conversation  was  told  me  by  him. 
They  liked,  those  two,  to  talk  of  their  few  happy  mem- 
ories to  a  real  sympathizer. 

So  easily  does  a  loving  woman  forget  her  past  sorrows 
in  present  joys,  that  the  bitterness  so  long  felt  by  Eliza- 
beth was  entirely  dissipated  in  the  beauty  of  this  new 
existence,  and  she  could,  from  her  heart,  say  what  few 
can  boast  of — namely,  that  life  at  least  had  given  her 
a  brief  period  of  wellnigh  cloudless  joy. 

This  short  Imperial  holiday  passed  away  only  too  quick- 
ly for  the  young  couple,  bright  from  the  minute  when 
the  sun  peeped  rosily  through  the  gauzy  mists  of  dawn, 
until  the  evening  star  had  sunk  to  rest  behind  the  dew- 
laden  trees  of  the  Imperial  Park. 

"You  will  love  me  always  like  this  now — promise?" 
whispered  Elizabeth  on  their  last  evening  at  Laxen- 
burg.     "Never  less  tenderly,  never  less  faithfully?" 

She  paused  with  a  little  sob  of  fear  and  joy.  He 
clasped  his  arms  about  her  tightly,  passionately,  mur- 
muring fond  promises  in  her  tiny  ear,  for  just  then  he 
loved  her  with  a  tenderness  intensified  by  the  poetical 
and  absolute  solitude  which  for  the  first  time  in  their 
married  life  had  completely  sorrounded  them,  by  the 
sweet  hours  spent  in  perfect  union,  and  by  her  own  un- 
expected gentleness  and  generous  restraint  from  either 
taunt  or  reproach. 

Long  did  he  hold  her  in  his  arms  as  if  no  earthly  power 
could  rend  her  from  him,  and,  clinging  closely  to  him,  she 
looked  up  in  his  eyes,  with  all  her  faith  and  her  con- 
fidence restored,  and  with  not  a  trace  of  past  shadows 
upon  her  sweet,  tender  face. 

It  was  piteous,  I  have  been  told,  when  once  more  all 

204 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

joy  had  been  crushed  out  of  her  life,  all  hope  and  trust- 
fulness destroyed,  to  see  her  awake  from  this  fair  dream, 
awake  to  the  utter  barrenness  of  her  desolate  future — a 
piteous  sight,  indeed,  I  readily  believe!  Young,  pure, 
devoted  as  she  was,  and  wronged  in  her  fondest  trust,  as 
she  thought  and  believed  that  she  had  been,  she  suffered 
as  few  have  done. 

Her  wild  bursts  of  sorrow,  the  agony  of  her  terrible 
fits  of  despair,  her  subsequent  dull,  mute,  hopeless 
anguish,  her  health  stricken  and  broken  down,  the  fears 
at  one  time  entertained  for  her  reason  and  even  her 
life,  her  flight  to  Madeira,  induced  by  the  whirl  of 
thoughts  and  feelings,  doubts  and  fears,  which  made  her 
touch  the  very  bitterness  of  death — I  have  set  all  this 
down  in  The  Martyrdom  of  an  Empress,  much  to  the  dis- 
pleasure of  those  who  would  have  considered  it  more 
fitting,  in  every  respect,  and  more  convenient  also  for 
them,  to  let  sleeping  facts  lie — in  more  senses  than  one — 
so  that  they  still  could  cast  all  the  blame  of  what  seemed 
at  times  difficult  to  explain  in  her  conduct  upon  her  own 
shoulders,  even  after  death  had  parted  her  alike  from 
friends  and  foes. 

But  what  matters  it  all  now? — excepting  in  so  far  as 
the  object  of  this  present  work  is  concerned,  which  is 
to  turn  the  other  side  of  the  medal  towards  the  public 
in  justice  to  the  so  grievously  bereaved  husband,  and  to 
his  mother  as  well.  The  whole  blame,  the  whole  and 
entire  responsibility  of  the  Empress's  martyrdom,  the 
unending  misery  of  one  of  the  fairest  and  proudest  lives 
which  ever  left  the  hand  of  Almighty  God,  should  not 
fall  on  those  two  alone,  for  there  were  others  who  should, 
in  fairness  and  justice,  be  added  to  the  list  of  her  unhappy 
fate's  artificers — others  who  played  the  part  of  lying  in- 
formers, and  who  urged  on  Archduchess  Sophia's  preju- 
dice by  pure  inventions  about  her  unfortunate  daughter- 

205 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

in-law,  hoping  thereby  to  curry  favor — who  poured  out 
drop  by  drop,  cleverly,  shrewdly,  and  scientifically,  the 
poison  which  worked,  and  worked  in  its  iniquitous  po- 
tency, and  bit  like  the  strongest  acid  into  Elizabeth's 
heart,  while  she  could  only  wait  inactive,  hoping  that 
justice  might  some  day  be  done  to  her — a  mercy  which 
was,  however,  refused. 

Also  she  suffered  many  other  torments  besides  those 
created  by  injustice  and  jealousy:  the  agony  of  be- 
reaved motherhood,  and  the  cruel  pain  before  that 
last  and  supreme  sorrow  befell  her,  of  seeing  her 
only  and  beloved  son's  life  wrecked  by  the  bitter  dis- 
appointments and  disillusions  his  marriage  brought 
him. 

Elizabeth  was  sensitive  to  an  extraordinary  degree, 
and  the  hostile  attitude  of  wellnigh  every  member  of  her 
Court  and  entourage  threw  her  from  cold  surprise  to 
nervous  apprehension,  which  made  her  own  manner,  by 
no  means  always  cordial,  like  that,  indeed,  of  a  person 
standing  off,  shut  in,  withheld. 

There  is  a  fallacy  to  the  effect  that  the  tongue  is 
woman's  weapon,  even  as  the  fist  is  man's.  Experienced 
and  sagacious  people  can,  however,  tell  quite  another 
tale — that  men  are  quite  as  ready  as  women  to  employ 
the  one  first  mentioned,  the  feminine  one,  which  is 
by  far  the  deadlier  of  the  two,  for  it  breaks  hearts 
instead  of  bones,  and  can  be  used  with  incredible 
savagery.  Both  sexes  are  alike  in  this,  and  there  is 
small  choice  between  them.  Any  one  who  lived  in  Vi- 
enna during  the  life  of  the  Empress,  even  as  a  visi- 
tor from  foreign  parts,  is  familiar  with  the  disgraceful 
stories  circulated  about  her,  and  with  the  yet  more  in- 
iquitous reasons  alleged  for  her  so-called  coldness  to  her 
husband,  retailed  by  high  and  low  in  twenty  different 
octaves.     Had  these  wiseacres  been  granted  the  power 

206 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

of  analyzing  Elizabeth's  true  character,  they  would  have 
found  out  the  reason  of  this  alleged  coldness. 

She  never,  never,  never  could  understand  that  her 
husband's  nature,  alive  and  vigorous,  rebelled  against 
the  laws  of  marriage,  the  constant  fetters  binding  this 
often  sorely  tempted,  singularly  attractive  man  to  one 
love  and  one  fealty,  nor  that  he  was  made  for  passions 
which  her  delicate  pride,  dainty  chilliness,  and  exces- 
sive refinement  could  not  even  apprehend ;  and  that  his 
very  manliness  clamored  for  rights  and  for  a  freedom 
which  women  of  her  stamp  never  dream  of.  She  was  so 
constant  herself  that  to  her  it  was  incomprehensible 
that  when  she  did  not  stand  beside  him,  her  soft  little 
fingers  holding  his,  the  charm  and  seduction  of  her 
presence  permeating  the  very  air  he  breathed,  she  lost 
all  power  to  hold  him  to  his  bonds;  and  that  it  was 
when  thus  unguarded  by  her  immediate  influence  that 
he  may  perchance  have  occasionally  strayed  from  the 
narrow  and  difficult  path  of  absolute  fidelity. 

This  and  this  alone  after  the  death  of  Archduchess 
Sophia  was  the  reason  of  her  intermittent  fits  of  cold- 
ness, of  her  absences  (which,  as  he  had  formerly  allowed, 
he  could  not  afterwards  well  forbid),  of  their  piteous 
misunderstandings  —  misunderstandings  complete,  fre- 
quent, and  at  times  cruel. 

This  was  what  caused  all  the  pain  and  the  trouble 
between  two  admirable  human  beings  formed  for  each 
other's  joy,  whose  hearts  and  souls  God  had  joined  to- 
gether, before  man  or  woman  had  taken  a  hand  in  the 
matter,  and  in  the  usual  meddling,  pharisaical  way  had 
spoiled  their  lives. 

And  yet,  I  shall  maintain  it  to  the  end,  that  she  and 
she  alone  had  the  power  to  strike  far  down  into  his  heart, 
and  to  stir  it  to  its  very  depths,  for  his  love  for  her  was 
not  the  "love"  which  most  men  consider  a  mere  amuse- 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ment,  like  gambling  or  drinking,  pour  passer  le  temps, 
but  a  noble,  generous,  high  -  souled  tenderness  of  su- 
premely lofty  essence,  lavishing  upon  her  a  fondness  of 
unequalled  and  unutterable  value.  Unfortunately,  she 
wanted  more  than  that;  not  more  than  she  herself  gave, 
however,  for  he  was  all  the  world  to  her,  but  more  than 
he  could  give,  since  it  was  unwearied,  unceasing,  eternal, 
and  utter  constancy  which  she  demanded. 

Elizabeth  was  the  pearl  of  women,  the  cleverest,  the 
loveliest;  and  because  she  committed  the  one  error  of 
measuring  others  by  her  own  standard  she  antagonized 
many  who  could  no  more  comprehend  or  appreciate  her 
than  a  blind  worm  can  feel  the  colors  of  the  rainbow. 
It  is  disdburaging  even  to  try  and  explain  her  out  as  I 
am  doing  now,  because  it  is  so  impossible  a  task;  the 
only  things  worth  writing  about  her  are  inexpressible, 
the  only  things  that  can  be  written  and  made  clear  seem 
so  obvious  and  worthless,  a  very  crackling  of  thorns  in 
the  fire.  To  what  end,  then,  shall  I  make  further  speech, 
on  that  subject,  save  to  give  myself  an  aching  heart? 
She  and  her  humble  chronicler  are  companions  in  mis- 
ery no  longer.  Our  losses  subserve  another's  gain,  and 
she  has  now  gained  her  reward  of  justice  and  peace. 

I  have  never  been  able  to  understand  why  the  fangs 
of  calumny  have  fastened  themselves  with  such  extraor- 
dinary and  uncalled-for  tenacity  on  the  House  of  Habs- 
burg,  not  a  single  member  of  which  has  been  spared  by 
the  venomous  tongues  and  equally  venomous  pens  of 
people  "who  knew  not  what  they  said,"  and  who  were 
not  even  turned  from  their  nefarious  course  by  the  ter- 
rible misfortunes  so  nobly  and  courageously  borne  by 
both  the  late  Empress  Elizabeth  and  by  her  husband. 

Ever  since  the  foul  assassination  of  that  peerless 
woman,  the  wearisome  hurdy-gurdy  of  sensationalism  has 
been  grinding  out  new  tunes,  evoked  from  old  themes, 

flo8 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

and  now  taking  for  their  Leit-motif  a  man  whom  grand- 
eur of  character  and  loftiness  of  purpose  should  have 
safe-guarded  against  such  unfounded  and  base  attacks, 
and  a  woman  whom  an  unhappy  life  and  a  miserable 
death  might  also  have  shielded,  if  her  beauty,  goodness, 
and  purity  were  not  sufficient  to  insure  her  immunity, 
from  wilful  misconstruction  and  post-mortem  scandals. 

The  fact  that  the  Emperor  is  a  man,  made  of  flesh 
and  blood,  as  well  as  a  great  Monarch,  and  therefore 
possessed  of  the  feelings  and  qualities  as  well  as  of  a  few 
of  the  failings  and  frailties  inherent  in  human  nature, 
constitutes  no  excuse  for  misconstruing  every  one  of  his 
actions. 

Among  other  singularly  unjust  charges  laid  at  his 
door  was  that  of  having  elevated  to  the  role  of  a  Madame 
de  Pompadour  that  popular  favorite  of  the  Viennese 
public,  Katharina  Schratt,  the  celebrated  actress  of  the 
Imperial  Burg-Theatre. 

All  one  can  say  of  this  accusation  is  that  it  is  perhaps 
one  of  the  least  founded  and  one  of  the  most  ridiculous 
of  the  many  with  which  Francis-Joseph  has  been  over- 
whelmed. 

A  few  words  of  explanation,  moreover,  are  all  that 
is  needed  to  prove  this  beyond  the  possibility  of  a  doubt. 

Born  in  the  delightfully  picturesque  little  town  of 
Baden,  near  Vienna,  Katharina  Schratt,  from  early  child- 
hood, gave  promise,  not  only  of  becoming  a  beautiful 
and  very  charming  woman,  but  also  a  great  artist.  Nor 
were  these  promises  vain,  for  shortly  after  leaving  the 
Conservatoire,  her  appearance  at  the  Viennese  Stadt- 
Theatre  created  a  sensation,  and  her  attractive  face  and 
form,  as  well  as  her  naive,  sympathetic,  and  totally  un- 
affected diction,  placed  her  from  the  beginning  on  a  par 
with  the  most  famous  ingenues. 

All  hearts  went  spontaneously  out  to  her,  and  her 
14  209 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

successes  as  an  actress  were  wellnigh  without  number. 
Strange  to  say,  her  reputation  remained  absolutely  un- 
sullied. Of  admirers  she  had  many,  but  in  her  own 
merry,  witty,  delicate  way  she  compassed  the  difficult 
task  of  keeping  them  at  a  distance,  while  still  retaining 
them  as  devoted  friends. 

This  was  all  the  more  meritorious,  as  her  salary  was  at 
first  naturally  not  excessive  and  her  expenses  very  large ; 
but  this  bizarre  young  woman  refused  all  possible  offers 
of  "friendly  "  loans  with  so  much  decision  that  a  singular 
halo  of  purity  enhanced  her  manifold  charms,  and  that 
she  was  nicknamed  by  clubmen  "the  Snow  Flower." 

Her  debts,  however,  accumulated;  and  when,  in  1883, 
Adolph  Wilbrandt  engaged  her  for  the  Imperial  Burg- 
Theatre,  although  she  was  the  acknowledged  queen  of 
the  Viennese  Lustspiel,  her  financial  affairs  were  at  a 
singularly  low  ebb. 

The  touching  charm  and  personal  magnetism  of 
"Katti"  made  it  easy  for  her  to  leap,  at  one  bound 
almost,  to  the  heights  of  tragedy,  and  her  Queen  Eliza- 
beth in  "Don  Carlos  "  was  a  magnificent  creation,  while 
in  the  famous  piece  "Stahl  und  Stein"  she  displayed 
the  eloquence  of  genius,  and  carried  all  before  her. 

I  purposely  mention  all  this,  not  by  any  means  in 
order  to  glorify  Katharina  Schratt,  but  because  it  seems 
best  under  the  circumstances  to  give  a  short  sketch  of 
the  true  "Katti,"  since  outside  of  Austria  she  has  been 
hitherto  not  only  misunderstood,  but  her  true  position 
with  regard  to  the  Emperor  misrepresented  and  revolting- 
ly  distorted  by  false  interpretations  and  falser  stories. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  actual  character  of  her — I  con- 
fess, somewhat  surprising — intimacy  with  the  Imperial 
Family. 

Although,  of  course,  not  hoffdhig,  and  therefore  inca- 
pacitated from  being  officially  presented  at  court,  "  Kat- 

210 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ti's"  position,  as  a  personal  friend  of  the  Habsburgs,  is 
now,  and  has  always  been,  not  only  absolutely  free  from 
any  shadow  of  the  mysterious  or  underhand,  but  strictly 
fair  and  above-board. 

Empress  Elizabeth,  who  was  the  soul  of  honor  and 
rectitude,  and  extremely  intolerant  of  anything  approach- 
ing impropriety,  besides  being  far  too  clever  and  wide- 
awake to  be  hoodwinked  in  any  way,  was  sincerely  fond 
of  Frau  Schratt,  and  made  a  point  of  inviting  her  to  . 
come  to  see  her  whenever  she  was  sojourning  at  her 
Castle  of  Lainz,  at  the  Kaiser- Villa  in  Ischl,  or  any  of 
the  resorts  which  she  loved  to  visit,  outside  of  her  hus- 
band's dominions,  at  the  sea-side,  the  Cote  d'Azur,  or 
any  other  spot  from  whence  strict  Court  etiquette  was 
banished. 

Many  a  time  during  the  latter  years  of  the  Empress's 
life  did  "  Katti"  take  a  short  holiday  in  the  early  spring, 
and,  like  a  bird  of  good  omen,  fly  to  Cape  Martin, 
with  the  sole  object  of  bringing  to  her  beloved  Imperial 
mistress  the  first  violets  which  shyly  peeped  out  from 
their  mossy  hiding-places  in  the  Viennese  Prater. 

Her  arrival  was  always  a  cause  of  joy  for  Elizabeth, 
who  was  wont  to  say  that  the  appearance  of  "Katti," 
with  her  sunny  smile,  and  her  delicious  burden  of  fra- 
grant flowers,  was  indeed  the  first  harbinger  of  spring, 
and  therefore  she  playfully  nicknamed  her  "L'hiron- 
delle  " — a  very  felicitous  appellation  for  a  creature  whose 
graceful  rapidity  and  elegance  of  motion  reminds  one 
involuntarily  of  a  joyful  swallow,  flitting  hither  and 
thither  and  carrying  hope  and  loving  thoughts  wherever 
she  alights. 

"  Hirondelle  legere  dans  les  cieux  eclatants.'n  Thus  be- 
gins the  celebrated  song  written  by  Felicien  David, 
and  thus  did  the  wife  of  Francis-Joseph  invariably  greet 
the  woman  whom  the  admirable  charity   of  so-called 

211 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

society  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  two  con- 
tinents, with  the  solitary  exception  of  Austro-Hungary, 
loudly  proclaimed  to  be  her  successful  rival  in  the 
affections  of  the  only  man  whom  she,  Elizabeth,  ever 
loved. 

"Oh,  thou  short  of  vision,  thou  canting,  senseless, 
hypocritical  thing,  society!  Will  the  scales  never  fall 
from  the  eyes  of  thy  adherents?"  cries  the  Due  de 
Richelieu.  "Thou  narrow  of  mind,  thou  prejudice- 
girthed,  venomous  object,  hydra  with  a  million  heads, 
unconquerable  pest!"  continues  the  Prime-Minister,  in 
a  monologue  which  is  full  of  harsh  but  strict  truths; 
and  Heaven  knows  that  there  is  not  one  of  us  old  Mon- 
dains  or  Mondaines  who  do  not  at  heart  indorse  the 
sentiments  thus  uttered  by  a  faithful  legitimist,  and  a 
man  whose  highness  of  mind  and  fairness  of  judgment 
were  proverbial. 

I  have  seen  it  stated  in  newspapers  professing  to  be 
well  informed  that  the  Emperor  of  Austria  fell  violently 
in  love  with  the  Schratt  during  a  representation  of 
Scribe's  "Ein  Glass  Wasser  "  at  the  Stadt-Theatre  many 
years  ago,  and  that  from  that  very  moment  the  pretty 
actress  owed  her  luxury  and  her  splendor  to  the  gallant 
monarch  whose  heart  she  had  so  swiftly  captured. 

There  is  not  a  word  of  truth  in  this.  Frau  Schratt 
came  face  to  face  with  the  Emperor  for  the  first  time 
on  the  occasion  of  a  private  audience  granted  to  her  at 
her  request,  when  the  debts  resulting  from  the  magnifi- 
cence of  the  toilettes  which  she  was  forced  to  wear  on 
the  stage  became  so  heavy,  that  she  resolved  to  sever 
her  connection  with  the  Burg-Theatre.  The  directors, 
reluctant  to  lose  so  popular  an  artist,  having  refused  to 
release  her  from  her  contract,  the  plucky,  determined 
little  woman  went  straight  to  Francis-Joseph,  in  order 
to  appeal  to  him  as  a  last  and  supreme  resort. 

212 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

"But  why  do  you  want  to  leave  the  Burg-Theatre?" 
quoth  the  monarch,  twirling  his  silky  mustaches,  as  is 
his  wont  when  annoyed,  and  looking  at  the  bright,  clever 
face  before  him  with  his  penetrating  blue  eyes. 

"Oh,  Your  Majesty,  I  cannot  stay.  I  am  too  poor  to 
pay  for  my  dresses,"  replied  "  Katti,"  blushing  violently- 
'  Tut,  tut !"  exclaimed  the  Emperor.  '  You  are  being 
swindled,  probably,  and  the  harm  is  not  without  a  rem- 
edy ;  and  as  we  cannot  so  easily  dispense  with  an  actress 
of  your  merit,  I  will  have  this  matter  looked  into." 

Here  I  may  as  well  open  another  parenthesis  to  ex- 
plain that  while  the  cost  of  all  the  superb  classic  cos- 
tumes at  the  Burg-Theatre  and  the  Opera  at  Vienna  is 
defrayed  by  the  Sovereign,  actresses  are  required  to  pay 
out  of  their  own  pockets  for  the  toilettes  which  they  wear 
in  modern  plays.  "Katti,"  whose  repertoire  consisted 
almost  exclusively  of  light  comedy  and  drama,  such  as 
"L'Etrangere"  and  "Le  monde  ou  Von  s'ennuie,"  was 
therefore  absolutely  swamped  by  her  milliner's  bills;  but 
the  Emperor  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  intrusted 
to  a  well-known  Viennese  financier  the  mission  of  set- 
tling Frau  Schratt's  affairs,  and  this  was  accomplished 
with  so  much  success  that  the  actress  was  enabled, 
without  sacrificing  one  tithe  of  her  pride  or  of  her  inde- 
pendence, to  remain  a  pensionnaire  of  the  Burg-Theatre, 
where  she  continued  to  shine  as  a  star  of  considerable 
magnitude. 

The  whole  incident  was  related  to  the  Empress  by 
her  Consort,  and  she  was  so  pleased  with  the  straight- 
forwardness and  honesty  of  Katharina  that  she  sent 
for  her,  made  her  some  valuable  presents,  and  befriend- 
ed her  in  every  possible  way,  being  quite  captivated 
by  the  simple,  light-hearted,  winning  manners  of  the 
"Snow  Flower,"  a  strange  one,  indeed,  and  a  rare,  to 
blossom  on  the  stage. 

213 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Empress  Elizabeth  was  not  given  to  doing  things  by- 
halves,  and  when  once  she  liked  somebody  her  esteem 
and  regard  were  deep  and  lasting,  the  word  "friend" 
being  with  her  no  empty  phrase.  It  is,  therefore,  not 
surprising  that  she  should  have  made  a  point  of  treating 
Frau  Schratt  without  a  trace  of  condescension,  for  it 
was  part  of  her  nature  to  forestall  any  humiliation,  be  it 
ever  so  slight,  which  a  woman  of  lesser  delicacy  of  feeling 
and  subtleness  of  tact  might  have  involuntarily  inflicted 
on  a  being  less  privileged  than  herself,  from  a  worldly 
stand-point,  who  chanced  to  come  into  contact  with  her. 

At  small  family  dinners  and  luncheons,  when  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  were  almost  alone,  "Katti"  was 
frequently  bidden,  and  her  ringing,  melodious  laugh,  her 
inexhaustible  fund  of  anecdote,  and  her  little  touch  of 
vernacular,  when  she  spoke  familiarly,  kept  her  Imperial . 
hosts  in  a  continuous  vein  of  good-humor. 

There  was  something  almost  childlike  in  her  essen- 
tially natural  and  simple  fashion  of  accepting  a  situation 
not  by  any  means  free  from  difficulties,  nor  innocent  of 
shoals,  and  yet  Katharina,  strange  to  declare,  never 
made  a  solecism,  presumed  upon  the  flattering  intimacy 
accorded  to  her,  nor  forgot  her  place  even  momentarily. 
All  this  was  accomplished,  however,  without  cringing, 
flattery,  or  obsequiousness.  She  was  content  with  being 
merely  herself,  a  merry  Wienerkind,  full  of  guileless  fun, 
ready  to  make  or  take  a  joke,  but  yet  possessed  of  an 
undercurrent  of  sincere,  almost  pathetic,  depth  of  feel- 
ing, which  made  of  her  an  ideal  consoler,  and  a  very 
precious  companion  when  joy  gave  place  to  sorrow  and 
the  dark  wing  of  misfortune  overshadowed,  again  and 
again,  the  house  of  her  kindly  Imperial  patrons. 

"I  am  Your  Majesty's  court -buffoon!"  she  once  ex- 
claimed, when  one  of  her  inimitable  impersonations  of 
some    world-renowned    celebrity   had    made    Elizabeth 

214 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

laugh  for  the  first  time  since  the  death  of  the  Crown- 
Prince. 

"Do  not  say  that,"  replied  the  Empress,  gently 
touching  the  actress's  slender  hand,  and  drawing  it 
within  her  own.  '  You  are  our  ray  of  sunshine,  my  dear ; 
and  little  do  you  know  how  often  your  delightful  mirth 
has  made  the  Emperor  and  myself  temporarily  forget 
the  sadness  which  now  seems  to  have  become  part  of 
both  of  us.  Your  merriness  is  not  buffoonery ;  far  from 
it,  it  is  witchery  of  the  most  covetable  quality,  for  it 
chases  away  dark  thoughts  and  turns  the  somberest 
sky  rosy." 

One  summer  morning  Frau  Schratt  had  been  lunching 
with  the  Emperor  and  Empress  at  Castle  Lainz.  The 
weather  was  oppressively  warm,  and  through  the  open 
windows  the  superb  parterres  amid  which  the  castle  is 
embedded  showed  like  rich,  multi-colored  carpets  under 
a  lowering,  storm-laden  sky. 

The  Empress,  who  was  clad  in  a  diaphanous  tea-gown 
of  black  gauze  and  lace,  expressed  her  consideration  for 
"those  poor  men"  who  in  summer  are  forced  to  encase 
themselves  in  heavy  uniforms  or  stifling  tweeds. 

"  Pardon  me,  my  Dearest,"  said  the  Emperor,  solemnly 
shaking  his  head,  "you  do  not  seem  to  notice  that  my  uni- 
form is  made  of  some  ethereally  thin  cloth,  which  comes 
straight  from  England,  and  that  really  it  is  no  warmer 
to  wear  than  are  your  transparent  draperies.  But,"  he 
added,  with  a  sigh  of  genuine  compunction,  "it  is  very 
delicate  and  horribly  expensive,  and  I  have  been  sadly 
extravagant!" 

Everybody  laughed  at  the  comical  air  of  consterna- 
tion with  which  one  of  the  wealthiest  of  monarchs  con- 
templated his  natty  attire,  this  economy,  practised  only 
on  himself,  being  a  well-known  little  failing  of  his. 

When,  a  little  later,  Francis-Joseph  stepped  into  the 

215 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

grounds  to  take  his  usual  post-prandial  constitutional, 
Frau  Schratt  was  requested  by  the  Empress,  who  de- 
clared that  she  herself  was  too  overcome  by  the  heat  to 
go  out,  to  accompany  him. 

Gayly  chatting,  actress  and  Emperor  wended  their 
way  under  the  shade  of  the  grand  old  trees,  until  they 
were  suddenly  overtaken,  without  any  other  warning 
than  one  single,  mighty  peal  of  thunder,  by  a  violent 
downpour  of  rain. 

Hurriedly  opening  her  dainty  silk  sunshade,  Frau 
Schratt  entreated  the  Emperor  to  take  shelter  under 
this  apology  for  an  umbrella. 

"What  nonsense!"  cried  Francis-Joseph,  turning  on 
his  heel,  arfd  leading  the  way  towards  the  distant  castle; 
"I'm  not  made  of  salt,  my  dear  child!" 

"But,  Majesty,"  implored  Katharina,  with  serious 
concern,  "what  about  the  nice,  new,  expensive  suit  of 
clothes.     It  will  be  ruined!" 

The  Emperor  was  still  laughing  heartily  over  her 
alarm  for  this  "nice,  new,  expensive  suit"  when, 
drenched  to  the  skin,  they  re-entered  Castle  Lainz. 

This  little  anecdote  may  serve  to  show  what  harmless 
and  simple  relations  existed  between  the  Imperial  couple 
and  their  "protegee." 

Nor  did  this  soft-hearted  woman  ever  misuse  her  in- 
fluence. She  was,  on  the  contrary,  always  eager  to 
attract  the  good-natured  Emperor's  attention  towards 
the  poor  and  the  needy,  and  to  this  day  she  never  allows 
an  occasion  to  escape,  from  which  benefit  may  be  de- 
rived for  those  who  are  in  trouble,  when  she  talks  with 
her  venerable  Imperial  friend. 

Her  role  has  been  throughout  one  of  kindly  interces- 
sion for  such  unfortunates,  many  of  whom  the  Emperor, 
at  her  request,  has  aided  and  relieved  from  want  or  mis- 
chance.    There  are,  indeed,  thousands  in  the  vast  extent 

216 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

of  Austro-Hungary  who  may  thank  Katharina  Schratt 
for  her  timely  intervention  on  their  behalf,  and  who 
would  lose  with  her  the  best  and  sincerest  of  mediators. 

A  lonely,  wretched,  disconsolate  life  has  fallen  to  the 
share  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria  since  the  day  when  his 
beautiful  Consort  was  taken  from  him  under  such  singu- 
larly terrible  circumstances,  and  this  new  and  unheal- 
able  wound  reopened  all  the  others  which  his  brave 
heart  had  received  during  a  long  career  of  care  and 
trouble.  Is  it  then  a  crime  that  he  should  have  clung 
to  the  pure,  deep,  and  loyal  friendship  of  a  woman  whom 
he  regards  as  the  friend  and  passionately  devoted  ad- 
mirer of  his  dead  wife,  and  as  the  companion  of  happier 
days?  "My  comrade,"  is  what  he  calls  "Katti,"  and 
a  stanch,  unselfish  comrade  she  is,  as  all  who  know  the 
true  circumstances  of  the  case  would  be  ready  to  testify. 

I  must  not  omit  to  add,  if  more  proof  thereof  be  needed 
after  all  which  has  gone  before,  that  it  was  not  only  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  of  Austria  who  were  the  firm 
friends  of  Katharina  Schratt,  but  that  also  the  Imperial 
children,  as  well  as  the  other  members  of  the  family, 
hold  her  in  high  regard.  Indeed,  when  three  years 
ago  Empress  Elizabeth's  sister,  Countess  Trani,  made  a 
tour  through  Italy,  she  invited  "Katti"  to  accompany 
her  as  an  honored  member  of  her  suite,  and  it  was  as 
such  that  the  actress  was  received  with  the  royal  Prin- 
cess in  private  audience  by  Leo  XIII.  at  the  Vatican. 

There  has  never  been  any  question  of  a  morganatic  mar- 
riage between  the  monarch  and  "  Katti,"  still  less  of  any 
cause  for  scandal,  but  merely  relations  of  kindly,  de- 
voted, and  disinterested  friendship,  which  are  viewed  with 
approval  by  the  people  of  Vienna.  They  like  to  feel 
that  their  beloved  Sovereign  has  frequently  at  his  side, 
in  her  person,  not  only  a  wise  counsellor,  but  a  woman 
who  considers  it  her  most  sacred  duty  to  lighten  the 

217 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

burden  of  pain  that  rests  heavily  on  those  square  shoul- 
ders and  that  whitened  head  which  have  heroically- 
weathered  the  fury  of  many  storms ;  storms  great  enough 
to  have  uprooted  the  very  soul  of  any  human  being 
lacking  the  sterling  qualities  of  courage  and  of  endur- 
ance which  so  endear  Francis-Joseph  to  his  subjects. 

One  lends  to  the  rich,  of  course,  saith  the  old  proverb, 
and  it  seems  impossible  to  convince  anybody  that  the 
knightly  monarch,  so  often  compared  to  the  famous 
lover  of  the  Mille-e-tre,  the  Imperial  Don  Juan  par  ex- 
cellence, should  in  this  instance  be  innocent  of  every- 
thing but  genuine  friendship;  and  yet,  for  all  that,  it  is 
none  the  less  true. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Ever  since  that  second  honeymoon,  described  in 
the  preceding  chapter,  Elizabeth,  who  had  always 
liked  Laxenburg  better  than  Schonbrunn,  entertained 
a  peculiar  tenderness  for  this  beautiful  Imperial  abode. 

Those  who  have  not  seen  Laxenburg,  especially  as  it 
was  years  ago,  before  too  many  modern  improvements 
and  the  presence  of  the  ex-Princess,  ex-Archduchess,  ex- 
Crown-Princess,  ex-widow,  who  spent  the  first  months 
of  that  widowhood  there,  depoetized  this  ideal  castle, 
have,  indeed,  a  regret  to  add  to  those  always  so  gener- 
ously allowed  by  life's  sad  experience. 

To  see  Laxenburg  to  full  advantage  it  was  also  neces- 
sary to  visit  it  in  the  first  fresh  burst  of  early  spring, 
when  the  great  elm  and  lime  trees  of  the  park  were  still 
in  the  tender,  delicate  loveliness  of  their  pale  -  green 
leaflets,  and  when  the  ferns,  from  the  tiniest  feathery 
sprays  up  to  the  tallest,  most  ambitious  fronds  that 
tower  protectingly  over  banks  of  violets,  primroses,  and 
daffodils,  were  still  uncurling  their  soft  tops  in  its 
fragrant  glades;  or  else  when  late  August  or  early  Sep- 
tember glow  upon  the  encircling  lake,  in  the  stretching 
aisles  of  glancing  green  and  gold,  where  stately  red  deer 
trod  majestically,  and  upon  the  superb  front  of  the 
magnificent  building,  with  its  terraces  and  tourelles,  its 
immense  gardens  and  lawns  of  velvet  turf,  and  its  cen- 
tury-old timber,  under  the  shadow  of  which  "little 
Franzi"  once  played  so  light-heartedly  and  carelessly 
with  his  beloved  "Grot." 

2IQ 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Kestrels  and  gerfalcons  wheeled  constantly  in  the 
sunny  sky  of  the  fair,  soft,  brilliant  autumn  days, 
keeping  their  jewel-like  eyes  harshly  bent  upon  the 
tangle  of  brown  -  tufted  weeds,  lance  -  leaved  water 
gladioli,  and  lustrous,  dark -green  arrowheads,  where 
the  teal  and  mallard  ducks  had  their  nests,  and  gi- 
gantic blue  herons  stood  everlastingly  on  one  or  the 
other  of  their  slender  yellow  legs,  watching  mockingly 
and  quizzically  their  enemies,  the  white  and  black  im- 
perial swans  floating  contemptuously  close,  and  dis- 
turbing with  their  soft-plumaged  breasts  the  clear 
reflection x>f  the  massive  battlemented  tower,  the  fretted 
pinnacles,  and  the  marvellously  carven  balconies  of  this 
paradisiacal  fairy  chateau,  distant  enough  from  town  or 
village  to  make  it  the  most  delightful  of  all  residences. 

Fully  worthy  of  the  wellnigh  unequalled  beauty  of 
this  exterior  was  the  dim  splendor  of  purple  and  gold, 
the  soft-hued  draperies,  the  gleam  of  ancient,  inlaid 
armor,  the  flash  of  priceless  trophies  which  greeted  one 
everywhere  within. 

It  was  a  joy  to  the  eye  to  walk  from  the  lofty, 
cedar-ceiled  salons  to  the  great  galleries,  hung  with 
Van  Dykes,  Mignards,  Holbeins,  Spagnalettos  and 
many  other  countless  chefs  d'amvre  by  Dutch,  French, 
and  Spanish  masters;  from  the  banqueting-hall,  pan- 
elled with  black  oak,  where  the  arms  of  the  Habs- 
burgs  and  of  the  royal  and  imperial  houses  with  which 
they  had  allied  themselves  were  emblazoned,  and  on 
three  sides  of  which  were  ranged  elaborately  carved 
knights'  stalls  with  gorgeous  banners,  heavily  broidered, 
drooping  above  them,  to  the  private  chapel,  gleaming 
like  a  gem  set  in  richly  tinted  enamels,  ivory,  and 
dusky  gold,  when  the  sun-rays  fell  upon  its  treasures 
through  the  ruby  and  emerald,  the  sapphire  and  ame- 
thyst and  rich,  dazzling  topaz  of  its  inimitable  verrieres. 

220 


THE      EMPEROR  S      PRIVATE      HALL      OE      AUDIENCE      IN      THE 

HOFBURG 


1 

'l_ 

1 

J 

SCHLOSS    LAXENBURG 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

That  was  the  old  Laxenburg,  which  the  latest  occu- 
pants, I  am  told,  have  declared  to  be  too  severe,  too 
august,  too  dark,  too  stern,  too  antique,  and,  if  I  judge 
rightly  from  what  I  know  of  one  of  them  especially, 
have  probably  "embellished"  with  plush  portieres  and 
gay  Parisian  furniture. 

I  am  endowed  with  absurd  and  barbaric  tastes,  and 
therefore  Laxenburg  in  its  sombre,  noble  charm,  with  its 
hundred  figures  of  knights  in  full  armor,  standing  firmly 
in  the  Rittersaal,  its  oubliettes,  where  the  white  bones  of 
long-dead  prisoners  still  peeped  from  the  darkness,  its 
amazing  stone  and  wood  carvings,  its  painted  cabinets,  its 
library  filled  with  hundreds  of  volumes,  including  many 
cditio  -  princeps  dating  from  the  Renaissance,  many 
ivory  and  silver  bound  missals  and  books  of  hours, 
and  many  great  rolls  of  yellow  parchment,  with  huge 
seals  bearing  heraldic  arms  and  crowns,  depending  from 
them  by  broad,  faded  ribbons,  its  trophies  of  antique 
matchlocks,  and  scintillating,  jewel-hilted,  damascene- 
scabbarded  swords,  adorning  the  halls  and  corridors,  was 
to  me  the  realization,  indeed,  of  what  a  truly  royal 
residence  should  be. 

I  might  add,  if  this  did  not  really  sound  over-pre- 
sumptuous and  quite  too  lacking  in  humility,  that  these 
views  of  mine  concerning  Laxenburg  were  shared  by 
no  meaner  a  personage  than  Empress  Elizabeth  herself, 
who  never  tired  of  wandering  in  the  almost  unique 
and  marvellous  Gothic  chapel,  where  is  preserved  the 
monstrance  holding  the  Holy  Sacrament  displayed  to 
Maximilian  I.,  on  the  cliff  of  the  Martinswand,  imme- 
diately before  his  marvellous  rescue;  of  admiring  the 
private  sitting-room  reserved  for  the  Habsburg  Em- 
presses, and  which  is  quaintly  and  most  originally 
tapestried  with  the  mantles  of  the  Knights  of  the  Golden 
Fleece,  worn  at  the  installation  of  this  supreme  Order; 

2  2  1 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

or  of  gazing  in  the  armory  at  the  astonishingly  beautiful 
armor  of  His  Majesty,  Charles  V.,  and  at  the  delicately 
wrought  bas-reliefs,  representing  the  siege  of  Troy,  which 
adorn  his.  helmet. 

This  reminds  me  of  one  special  ride  with  the  Empress 
from  Schonbrunn  to  Laxenburg,  during  which  she  told 
me  exactly  what  she  thought  about  this  architectural 
gem ;  and  as  I  have  been  very  sparing  thus  far — in  my 
^•wn  opinion,  at  least — about  personal  reminiscences,  I 
shall  indulge  myself  in  a  short  one  now. 

After  a  brisk  gallop  along  the  uninterrupted  avenue 
of  trees  connecting  the  two  chief  Imperial  summer  pal- 
aces in  the  neighborhood  of  Vienna,  we  slackened  our 
speed  and  fell  to  chatting,  as  was  our  wont. 

Elizabeth  was  riding  a  chestnut  thoroughbred,  pos- 
sessed of  a  morose  temper  and  a  very  wild  eye,  and  I 
a  fidgety  bay,  addicted  to  unseemly  gambols,  and  dis- 
concerting tete-a-queus;  but  this  mattered  but  little,  for 
we  progressed  very  comfortably,  and,  as  my  gracious 
companion  humorously  put  it,  "with  all  the  inimitable 
dignity  of  twin  Cyniscas  returning  from  the  Olympian 
games." 

The  weather  was  absolutely  perfect  for  a  ride,  and  the 
checkered  shadow  of  the  great,  umbrageous  boughs  over- 
head was  deliciously  cool  and  pleasant. 

"I  have,"  the  Empress  said,  suddenly,  "a  very  par- 
ticular tenderness  for  our  as  yet  unspoiled  Austrian 
Chenonceaux.  There  are  things  quite  as  interesting 
as  at  the  Burg  to  be  seen  there,  some  even  more  so, 
and,  moreover,  its  being  built  on  the  lake  in  this  old-fash- 
ioned way  endears  it  extremely  to  me." 

I  knew  of  memories  which  endeared  Laxenburg  still 
more  to  her,  but  said  nothing  about  those,  of  course, 
and  silently  acquiesced. 

"Every  time  I  am  there,"  she  continued,  flicking  the 

222 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ears  of  her  horse  absent-mindedly  with  the  end  of  her 
stick,  which  made  the  latter  treat  us  to  a  bound  prodig- 
ious enough  to  have  unseated  any  one  else,  but  which 
did  not  even  cause  this  amazing  horsewoman  to  inter- 
rupt her  sentence,  "I  invariably  fall  to  envying  the 
ladies  for  whom  those  delicious  full  suits  of  armor  we 
were  looking  at  the  other  day  were  made." 

"To  judge  from  them,"  I  replied,  dryly, "Jeanne  d'Arc 
was  not  the  only  '  fair  ladye '  who  appreciated  the  pleas- 
ures of  excitement  and  danger,  and  merrily  sallied  forth 
to  encounter  such  distractions  as  flying  arrows  and  ex- 
ploding culverins." 

"Such  feelings  are  distinctly  in  favor  of  mediaeval 
women,"  she  began;  but  the  sudden  breaking  of  a  small 
branch  caused  her  estimable  hunter  to  stand  upright, 
viciously  pawing  the  air,  and  it  was  only  when  her, 
"Gently,  old  boy;  quiet,  quiet!"  had  induced  the  irasci- 
ble animal  to  come  down  on  his  forelegs  again  that  she 
resumed — "They  say  that  I  have  been  guilty  of  many 
mad  pranks.  What  say  you  to  our  being  measured  for 
armor?  That  would  startle  the  old  fogies,  would  it  not, 
and  make  them  chicane  us  with  renewed  vigor?" 

I  laughed.  The  idea  was  amusing  to  me.  'The 
feudal  times  must  have  been  glorious!"  I  exclaimed, 
however,  anxious  to  turn  the  conversation  back  into 
safer  channels,  for  any  thought  of  "the  old  fogies"  was 
sure  to  destroy  her  good-humor;  "but  it  seems  to  me 
they  are  never  well  or  fairly  described,  either  by  roman- 
cists,  who  mostly  vilify  them,  or  by  historians,  who  do 
them  scant  justice." 

"You  are  quite  right;  it  has  often  struck  me,  too. 
There  is  a  strange  spite  against  the  aristocracy  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  that  of  the  present  also,  for  that 
matter,  in  this  enlightened  period.  It  is  sheer  preju- 
dice, nothing  else,  for  the  hypocrisies,  Jesuitisms,  giant 

223 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

frauds,  robberies,  swindles,  and  other  agreeable  qualities 
of  the  middle  classes  and  parvenus  of  to  -  day  would 
give  points  to  the  boldest  and  most  high-handed  doings 
of  the  Rauber -Barons." 

This  was  so  much  my  own  opinion  that  I  cried,  delight- 
edly, "Yes,  yes!  the  most  amazing  fancy  of  modernists 
is  that  low  breeding  purifies  and  blue  blood  stains;  that 
the  self-made  man  is  invariably  a  hero,  while  to  descend 
from  a  long  line  of  valiant  soldiers  is,  ipse-facto,  to  be 
devoid  of  common  honesty,  ordinary  morals,  or  even 
so  much  as  a  conscience.  It  seems  odd,  does  it  not,  that 
a  man  or  woman  who  have  inherited  refinement  and  a 
high  conception  of  honor  from  their  ancestors  should  be 
the  worse  for  it,  and  consequently  selected  as  the  stalk- 
ing-horses of  vice  and  villany.  Doubtless,  there  are 
very  estimable  and  irreproachable  parvenus,  but  that 
should  be  no  reason  to  annihilate  us  en  bloc!" 

The  Empress  laughed — the  gay,  infectious  laugh  so 
peculiarly  her  own  when  she  had  for  a  few  hours  cast 
off  the  prevailing  melancholy  of  her  nature. 

"  Estimable  parvenus!  I  should  think  so.  For  instance, 
Peel,  Baptiste  Colbert,  Napoleon  I.,  Ney,  and  a  hundred 
other  brilliant  encouragements  to  youths  whose  talents 
are  superior  to  their  station  in  life;  but  those  all  rose 
by  worthy  means.  I  think,  talking  of  men  who  rise  by 
worthy  means,  by  energy  and  by  mental  force  du  poignet, 
that  I  should  like  to  go  and  spend  a  few  weeks  in  Amer- 
ica. That  is  the  only  republican  country  I  ever  ad- 
mired. A  race  which  produced  Audubon  surely  cannot 
produce  regicides  and  anarchists!" 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,  although  this  is  a  novel  view 
of  racial  characteristics,"  I  replied,  rather  dubiously. 
"Of  course,  in  America  things  may  be  different  in  that 
respect.  One  cannot  pardon  any  one  belonging  to  the 
old  Nobility  turning  republican,  although  feudalism  has 

224 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

now  so  nearly  vanished,  excepting  here  in  Austria  and 
in  mine  own  Brittany ;  yet  it  would  not  be  right  to  sneer 
down  a  huge  country  like  America  for  choosing  its  form 
of  government,  since  it  never  had  a  king  of  its  own." 

In  spite  of  our  talk  we  had  ridden  reasonably  fast, 
and  this  exchange  of  ideas,  which  was  brought  back 
vividly  to  my  mind  under  very  different  circumstances 
some  ten  years  later,  was  interrupted  by  our  entrance 
into  the  park  of  Laxenburg,  which,  in  its  late  summer 
beauty  of  clustering  blossoms,  scattered  by  a  soft  breeze 
all  over  the  turf,  of  climbing  China-roses  blotching  the 
cool,  green  shadows  with  vivid  color,  and  of  huge,  mag- 
nolia -  like,  metallic  -  leaved  trees,  where  deep  cups  of 
waxy  pink  nestled,  diffusing  an  intoxicating  fragrance, 
admitted  of  no  more  dallying  with  dry  political  questions. 

The  sun  was  just  setting,  and  there  was  a  rosy  glow 
upon  the  lake,  bathing  it  with  a  tender  grandeur  deep- 
ening each  moment,  and  silhouetting  the  distant  Donjon 
Keep  of  the  Franzensburg,  with  its  waving  silken  banner 
ripplingly  profiled  in  bronze  tints  against  the  dazzling 
sky.  As  we  rode  past  the  rose-garlanded  Meyerei,  its 
diamond-paned  windows  sparkled  with  reflected  fires, 
while  the  castle  itself  in  this  heavenly  light  looked  like 
a  dream  edifice,  or  the  palace  of  Arthur's  beloved  Avalon. 

Elizabeth  leaned  forward  in  her  saddle,  watching  that 
feast  of  exquisite  hues  on  land,  sky,  and  water. 

'What  a  delicious  place!"  she  exclaimed.  "Oh,  do 
look  at  that  delicate  mixture  of  pearl  and  amethyst 
on  the  lake,  and  the  rich,  warm  pink  of  those  last  sun- 
rays  glorifying  the  sombre  ivy  and  the  cold,  gray  stone 
carvings  of  the  balconies !  It  is  perfect !  absolutely  per- 
fect! and  I  do  not  think  it  can  easily  be  equalled.  Let 
us  ride  to  the  Turnierplatz,  and  try  to  imagine  that  steel- 
clad  Chevaliers  are  awaiting  us  there  to  fight  in  the  grand 
old  way  for  "  the  honor  of  their  ladye,"  and  that  we  are 
js  225 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

living  in  those  fortunate  times  when  far  finer  creatures 
than  ourselves  were  led  by  four  little  words  only: 
'UHonneur  parte;  il  suffit!'  " 

The  Tumierplatz,  or  Lists,  on  that  superb  evening 
looked  to  both  of  us  just  as  if  Rudolph  of  Habsburg 
himself,  surrounded  by  a  procession  of  knights  in  full 
armor,  preceded  by  heralds,  and  followed  at  a  long 
distance  by  the  priests,  the  surgeons,  and  the  terrible, 
sable-draped  Todtenwagen,  meant  to  bear  away  those 
killed  in  the  encounter,  was  advancing  to  grace  a  tourna- 
ment by  his  noble  presence. 

It  was  jsl  moment  when,  in  our  imaginations  at  least, 
the  brave  days  of  chivalry  were  revived,  for  the  place 
truly  had  the  perfume  of  ancient  times,  and  was  in  as 
great  a  contrast  with  modernism  as  the  grace  and 
courtliness  of  manner  of  our  ancestors  is  to  the  boorish, 
hail-fellow-well-met  tone  of  to-day. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  Empress,  as  at  last  we  turned 
our  horses  towards  home,  "Laxenburg  is  the  only  place 
which  makes  me  feel  better  than  I  really  am;  it  is  so 
stately,  so  quiet,  and  so  untroubled,  so  penetrated  with 
old-world  charm.  A  noble  place,  indeed!  One  would  not 
be  surprised  to  see  Duguesclin  emerge  from  that  leafy 
way  yonder,  or  to  encounter  Roland  striding  through 
the  dim  and  dewy  fern-brakes  to  the  edge  of  the  lake 
where  those  lilies  and  forget-me-nots  are  growing. 
When  I  am  a  white-haired  old  woman  I  will  come  here 
to  live  in  solitude,  in  order  to  close  my  dreamy  existence 
by  a  last  enduring  dream  of  the  beautiful  past!" 

Poor  Elizabeth!  little  did  she  think  that  her  pure, 
noble  dreams  would  be  cut  short,  ignobly,  brutally,  by 
the  foul  hand  of  an  anarchist,  and  that  with  her  her 
husband's  most  cherished  ones  would  be  buried  also. 

Among  the  latter  stood  pre-eminent,  for  years  and 
years,  the  reconstruction  of  old  Schloss  Habsburg;  for 

226 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  cradle  of  his  race,  where  his  illustrious  ancestor, 
Rudolph,  first  Emperor  of  his  line,  lived  and  loved  and 
suffered  six  centuries  ago,  is  to-day  in  alien  hands, 
lying,  as  it  does,  in  Switzerland,  close  to  the  German 
frontier,  and  many  miles  from  Austrian  territory. 

It  was,  indeed,  one  of  Emperor  Francis-Joseph's  most 
heart-felt  hopes  to  purchase  and  restore  it ;  but  this  was 
fated  never  to  come  to  pass;  and  to  this  day  its  splendid, 
half-ruined  halls,  its  numerous  rooms,  and  its  long,  wind- 
ing corridors  are  still  used  by  the  worthy  Swiss  to  stable 
cows  and  pigs,  while  the  apartment  once  occupied  by  the 
great  Rudolph  himself,  and  which  alone,  out  of  so  many, 
is  in  an  almost  complete  state  of  preservation,  has  been 
transformed  into  a  Bier  Schenke,  where  fat  -  cheeked, 
round-eyed  Helvetic  maidens  dispense  mugs  of  foam- 
ing ale  and  thick  tumblers  full  of  potato-brandy  to  rare 
tourists  and  frequent  native  consumers. 

Some  years  ago,  having  spent  a  portion  of  the  summer 
in  Tyrol,  I  felt  tempted  to  travel  on  to  Switzerland  for 
the  purpose  of  visiting  Castle  Habsburg.  I,  therefore, 
took  train  to  Schintznach,  in  the  lovely  valley  of  the  Aar, 
where  I  arrived  on  a  superb  September  morning,  rutilant 
with  golden  sunshine  and  fragrant  with  the  intoxicating 
odor  of  millions  of  apples  ripening  in  the  great  orchards, 
which  are  a  distinct  feature  of  the  Canton  d' 'Argovie; 
and,  accompanied  only  by  my  old  courier,  I  set  off  at  a 
brisk  pace  up  the  melancholy  and  densely  wooded  hills 
which  surround,  on  all  sides,  the  crumbling  towers  of 
the  grand  old  fortress  I  had  come  to  see. 

Densely  wooded,  indeed,  was  the  whole  region,  and  the 
path  we  followed  was  cool  with  checkered  shade,  and 
crossed,  occasionally,  wild  little  forest  streams  or  shal- 
low brooklets,  gurgling,  tinkling,  and  murmuring  among 
velvet-clad  stones,  green  as  moss  alone  can  be  when  it  is 
very  damp. 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

I  have  a  great  weakness  for  narrow  bridle-paths  with 
rustling  boughs  meeting  overhead,  and  borders  of  tall, 
moist -looking,  lanceolated  ferns,  which  shelter  tiny,  timid, 
pale-hued  blossoms,  hiding  their  delicate  loveliness  under 
emerald-tinted  veils,  as  were  it  a  sin  to  be  beautiful! 

A  clear,  amber  light  fell  through  the  aisles  of  the  trees, 
and  the  track  was  so  hedged  in,  and  in  places  so  overrun 
by  wild-rose,  honeysuckle,  and  dainty  mauve  harebells, 
that  I  had  the — to  me  always  delightful — sensation  of  its 
being  quite  easy  to  lose  one's  self  in  this  delicious  tangle. 

I  walked  onward,  watching  whole  hosts  of  squirrels 
leaping  from  branch  to  branch,  or  knocking  down  fuzzy 
chestnut -burrs,  which  fell  with  a  rattle,  and  were  turned 
to  green-gold  by  stray  beams  of  the  now  rapidly  ascend- 
ing sun. 

Far  down  in  the  valley  bells  were  ringing  their  mid-day 
chimes,  and  the  melodious  sound  rose  soft  and  mellowed 
on  the  clear,  pellucid  air. 

At  last  we  suddenly  debouched  upon  a  plateau  of 
bluish  granite,  split  here  and  there  by  the  tenacious  roots 
of  wych-elms,  and  in  the  middle  of  which  the  crumbling, 
ivy-mantled  towers  of  a  once  mighty  castle  cast  black 
shadows  upon  a  wide  moat,  where  the  round  leaves  of 
lilies  and  the  sharp  spikes  of  irises  alone  broke  the  mo- 
notony of  slimy,  stagnant,  green-coated  water. 

From  the  frowning  battlements  orange  and  brown  - 
petalled  gilly-flowers,  pink-tufted  Jonbarbes,  and  flaming 
Ravenelles  peeped  forth,  where  once  the  pikes  of  men-at- 
arms  had  glittered,  and  out  of  the  loop-holes,  blackened 
by  powder-stains  centuries  old,  swallows  were  flying  in 
joyful  zigzags  towards  the  pale  blue  of  the  sky. 

In  spite  of  neglect,  and  of  the  heavy  hand  of  time  and 
of  abandonment,  the  grim,  forbidding  pile  of  masonry 
had  still,  on  that  side  at  least,  a  stately,  solemn  aspect. 
In  the  silence,  the  stillness  of  that  autumn  day  one  felt 

228 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

humiliatingly  small  and  insignificant,  almost  crushed,  be- 
fore this  great  relic  of  dead-and-gone  ages,  which  not 
even  the  power  of  an  Emperor  could  reclaim,  the  Can- 
tonal Government  which  owns  it  having  repulsed  Fran- 
cis-Joseph's generous  offers  of  purchase  with  curt  refu- 
sals, heeding  but  little  the  sorry  fact  of  this  broken 
eagle's  nest — this  once  proud  dwelling  of  sovereigns — 
remaining  forever  in  the  rude  grasp  of  cow-herds. 

Slowly  I  wended  my  way  through  the  luxuriant  net- 
tles and  wild  absinthe  -  plants  growing  knee  -  high  all 
around,  and,  crossing  the  battered  remains  of  the  draw- 
bridge, I  shuddered  in  the  warmth  of  the  sunlit  Cour 
d'Honneur  as  my  eyes  fell  on  the  destruction  of  this  noble 
place,  the  heaped-up  stones  fallen  from  the  thick,  gray 
walls, and  upon  which  ground-vines  ran  riot,  the  remnants 
of  gorgeously  stained  glass  still  jaggedly  adhering  to 
the  lancet  window  casements,  and  the  tall  watch-tower 
looking  as  if,  wounded  by  many  catapults  and  blasted 
and  scorched  by  petronels,  it  would  even  now  totter 
and  fall  were  its  strong  corset  of  dark  ivy  torn  from 
about  its  gaunt  shape. 

At  the  sound  of  our  footsteps  a  peevish-looking  old 
man  came  out  of  a  low  postern-door  and  inquired  our 
pleasure.  He  was  the  custodian  of  the  place,  as  well  as 
the  vendor  of  the  beer  and  brandy,  bread  and  cheese 
partaken  of  by  his  customers  in  the  oak-panelled  room 
where  once  Rudolph  von  Habsburg  had  rested.  Also,  he 
was  the  proud  owner  of  the  cows,  pigs,  and  cackling  poul- 
try desecrating  the  audience-place,  the  banqueting-hall, 
and  the  noble,  loftily  arched  Rittersaal,  where  knights 
had  sat  in  council  or  at  meat,  under  dim  banners  droop- 
ing from  the  blazoned  ceiling  above  their  plumed  and 
helmeted  heads. 

Upon  our  guide's  uninviting  countenance  shone  an  ex- 
pression of  proprietary  pride  as  he  led  me  from  room  to 

229 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

room,  all  and  sundry  pervaded  by  a  heavy,  nauseating 
stench  of  manure;  and  his  yokel's  surly  laugh  echoed 
under  the  groined  roof  of  what  had  once  been  the  chapel, 
when  he  pointed  out  massacred  statues  of  saints,  black- 
ened by  the  rains  and  snows  of  countless  winters,  which 
the  searching  winds  each  year  blow  more  freely  through 
widening  fissures. 

From  the  crumbling  battlements,  upon  which  mine 
host  prudently  refused  to  follow  me,  the  view  is  mag- 
nificent. 

Far  and  near  I  saw  verdure-clad  hills  undulating  be- 
tween green  valleys,  where  the  broad  ribbons  of  streams 
sparkled  in  clear  tints  of  blue  and  silver.  A  hazy  radi- 
ance, created  by  sun-heat  and  distance,  enwrapped  the 
oak  and  birch  woods  extending  to  the  horizon,  with  now 
and  again  the  deep  purple  of  pines  marking  islands  of 
darkness  on  this  murmuring,  rustling  sea  of  foliage. 

An  infinite  sense  of  peace  emanated  from  those  vast, 
unworn  solitudes  made  up  of  century-old  timber,  of  deep 
grasses,  of  the  endless  shade  of  towering  firs,  of  torrents 
and  tarns,  and  of  realms  upon  realms  of  pure  ether,  in 
which  vultures  wheeled  and  blue  herons  sailed,  uttering 
their  resounding  rallying  cry. 

For  a  long  time  I  leaned  on  the  stone  parapet  of  the 
watch-tower  gazing  upon  the  varying  colors  of  land  and 
cloud,  upon  the  pure,  transparent  gray  and  rose  of  the 
western  sky,  towards  which  the  sun  was  gently  gliding 
and  soon  would  sink,  upon  the  green  twilight  of  the  deep 
gorges  immediately  beneath  the  rugged  spur  whereon 
the  castle  rose,  and  I  let  my  thoughts  wander  to  the  dim 
days  of  the  year  1020,  when  the  Chevalier  Radbot  had 
built  it,  in  concert  with  his  brother,  Arch  Abbot  Werner, 
and  when  the  steel-clad  followers  of  marauding  Barons 
had  swept  up  these  rocky  slopes,  to  be  gallantly  received 
upon  the  lance-points  of  its  defenders. 

230 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Nothing  was  stirring  around  me  save  a  flight  of  som- 
bre-pinioned birds — no  doubt  some  pertinacious  de- 
scendants of  the  original  Habsburg  ravens — circling  high 
up  in  the  air,  above  the  dilapidated  turrets  at  my  left; 
and  the  mossy  stones,  the  lifeless  courts,  and  empty  keep 
gathered  a  great  dignity  and  an  overpowering  austerity 
from  this  very  lack  of  sound  and  motion. 

Would  this  old  place  never  be  restored  to  its  long-de- 
parted glory,  this  jewel  of  the  past  remain  always  in 
alien,  desecrating  hands?  What  mortification  that  the 
scene  of  so  many  grand  and  noble  deeds  should  now 
echo  nothing  save  the  lowing  of  cattle,  the  grunting  of 
pigs,  or  the  hoarse  curses  or  ribald  jokes  of  drunken 
peasants ! 

I  tried  to  reconstruct,  for  my  own  gratification,  the 
long-forgotten  days  when  this  ruin  had  overflowed  with 
active,  joyful  life;  when  the  great  apartments  beneath 
my  feet  had  been  thrown  open;  when  servants,  retainers, 
gayly  clad  pages,  and  brown-robed  monks  had  passed  in 
and  out  of  them ;  when  merry  hunting-parties  had  set  off 
at  the  call  of  the  huntsmen's  silver  horns,  in  pursuit  of 
bear  and  wolf  within  the  great  forest ;  when  the  setting 
sun  had  touched  the  bright  folds  of  the  Habsburg  ban- 
ner floating  above  the  watch-tower,  originally  built,  if 
legend  speaks  truly,  by  Count  Gontran  le  Riche,  the 
Habichsgraf,  and  hosts  of  nobles  had  feasted  before  bat- 
tle in  the  banqueting-hall. 

A  dull,  half -conscious  pain  crept  into  my  heart,  and  a 
bitter  sense  of  depression  made  me  shiver  again  as  I 
awoke  from  this  dazzling  dream  to  all  that  was  left  of 
the  teeming,  crowded  life  which  had  disappeared  forever 
— awoke  to  the  terrible  pathos  of  so  much  that  was  lost 
with  it — and  I  mentally  registered  a  vow  to  faithfully  ac- 
quaint those  to  whom  such  knowledge  was  due  of  all  I 
had  seen  that  day. 

231 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

"Will  it  be  of  any  use?"  I  said,  half  aloud,  and  then  I 
descended  the  narrow,  granite  steps,  worn  thin  by  feet 
long  resting  underground,  and  made  my  way  to  the  vine- 
grown  arbor  where  I  had  left  my  own  tired  and  aged 
retainer. 

Soon  we  were  once  more  walking  briskly  through  the 
forest.  The  sun  was  now  quite  low  on  the  horizon,  and 
its  slanting  rays  showed  blood-red  between  the  boles  of 
the  trees.  Behind  us  the  ruins,  that  had  been  raised 
with  hewn  stone  so  many  centuries  before,  towered  fan- 
tastically against  the  evening  sky,  solemn  and  sombre ; 
beside  the  narrow  wood-path  a  jagged  tooth  of  lichen- 
grown  stone,  pierced  here  and  there,  through  the  under- 
growth, like  some  long -forsaken  Breton  Dolmen;  and 
soon  a  romantic,  silvery  grayness  replaced  the  golden 
splendor  of  the  vanished  sunbeams. 

As  we  went  down  the  hill,  amid  the  gathering  dark- 
ness and  the  sobbing  of  the  little  brooks,  the  thought 
of  what  I  had  seen  that  day  hung  over  me,  in  a  vague 
oppression,  like  the  shadow  of  something  great  which 
had  passed  away  forever! 

When  I  returned  to  Vienna,  Crown-Prince  Rudolph,  to 
whom  I  recounted  my  visit  to  Castle  Habsburg,  swore 
that  he  would  overrule  the  obstinacy  of  the  Swiss  Gov- 
ernment; and,  later  on,  he  also  undertook  a  trip  to  the 
Canton  d'Argovie,  under  the  strictest  incognito,  but  his 
efforts,  like  those  of  his  father,  were,  alas!  barren;  and, 
bitterly  disappointed  and  saddened,  he,  too,  went  his 
way  wondering. 


CHAPTER  X 

To  obtain  a  general  view  of  a  battle,  or  of  a  mist- 
wreathed  mountain-summit,  one  does  not  follow  the 
combatants  into  the  turmoil  or  ascend  the  mountain- 
side, but,  standing  at  a  distance,  one  strives  to  pierce 
the  mantle  of  cloud,  whether  it  be  due  to  the  sulphur- 
ous reek  of  conflict  or  to  vapors  sun-drawn  from  the 
eternal  snows,  which,  lifting  here  and  drawing  aside 
there,  allows,  in  successive  glimpses,  the  desired  vision. 

The  recorder  of  the  life  of  a  great  sovereign  must  do 
likewise,  be  it  said,  in  extenuation  of  the  leaps  and 
bounds  by  which  I  am  forced  to  proceed,  and  also  as  an 
excuse  for  suddenly  transplanting  my  patient  reader  to 
Paris  in  the  early  spring  of  1864,  when,  beside  the  Seine, 
flashing  onward,  all  silvered  in  the  moonlight,  under  the 
illuminated  bridges  of  the  great  city,  from  the  leafy 
glades  of  the  marvellous  forest  of  Fontainebleau,  towards 
the  thickly  wooded  heights  of  St.  Germain,  the  great 
chestnuts  of  the  Tuileries  gardens  were  just  thrusting 
out  their  first  green  leaves  through  the  resinous  armor 
of  their  swollen  buds. 

The  Paris  of  those  days,  the  palmiest  of  Napoleon  III.'s 
Empire,  was,  as  everyone  knows,  fatiguingly  light-heart- 
ed, merry,  noisy,  dazzling,  brilliant,  and  re-echoing  with 
the  thrill  of  feverish  laughter.  Over  this  sea  of  jest  and 
mirth  Mabille  scintillated,  like  a  very  Pharos,  beckoning 
light-hearted  navigators  to  a  harbor  of  eternal  fete  and 
never-ceasing  gayety,  and  vied  with  La  Chaumiere  in  the 
production  of  extraordinary  revels. 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

The  palace  of  the  Tuileries  was  thronged  on  this  par- 
ticular spring  night,  for  a  great  ball  was  being  given  in 
honor  of  the  new  Emperor  and  Empress  of  Mexico, 
brother  and  sister-in-law  of  Francis-Joseph  of  Austria, 
and  a  dense  cohue  of  courtiers  and  other  "general 
utilities"  of  that  meretriciously  glittering  pseudo-court 
filled  the  enfilade  of  over-gilded  salons,  blazing  with  myri- 
ads of  lights  and  heavy  with  the  odor  of  hot-house  flowers. 

In  the  Quadrille  d'Honneur,  with  a  wealth  of  rubies  and 
diamonds  crowning  her  red  bandeaux  and  drooping  curls, 
and  a  white,  cloudlike  dress  billowing  about  her  perfect 
figure,  Eugenie  moved  gracefully,  opposite  a  woman  as 
dissimilar  to  herself  as  light  is  to  dawn. 

Tall,  slender,  her  magnificent  neck  and  arms  emerging 
from  showers  and  cascades  of  black  laces,  the  jessamine 
whiteness  of  her  skin  and  the  blackness  of  her  tresses 
admirably  set  off  by  the  ropes  of  pearls  she  wore  in  pro- 
fusion, and  the  pointed  diadem  of  jewelled  flowers  sur- 
mounting her  smooth  brow,  was  Charlotte,  Princess  of 
Belgium,  Archduchess  of  Austria,  and  since  quite  re- 
cently Empress  of  Mexico. 

She  was  dancing  with  Napoleon,  but  looked  straight 
before  her,  her  thin  lips  slightly  parted  in  a  half-smile  of 
triumph  and  exultation,  because  she,  too,  like  her  sweet 
sister-in-law,  Elizabeth,  of  whom  she  had  always  been  so 
bitterly  jealous,  was  now  an  Empress,  and  she  occasion- 
ally allowed  her  sparkling  black  eyes  to  rest  upon  her 
tall,  blond  husband,  who  was  Eugenie's  partner,  yet 
there  was  no  saving  shadow  of  love,  gratitude,  or  tremu- 
lous, wifely  pride  in  her  regard  to  denote  that  he  had 
not  made  his  sacrifice  in  vain,  only  a  harsh  glitter  of 
realized  ambition  and  sated  content. 

Ambition,  indeed,  was  the  leading  passion  of  this 
memorable  fite ;  for  had  not  that  powerful  incentive 
alone  brought  together  the  reckless  crowd  of  degenerate 

234 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

nobles  who  had  soiled  their  escutcheons  by  condescend- 
ing to  rallie  themselves  round  Louis  Napoleon ;  of  women 
who  had  bartered  their  blue  blood  for  a  rich  marriage 
with  some  gilded  Roturier  of  the  second  Empire ;  of  rather 
more  than  less  compromised  and  shady  male  and  female 
Bonapartes,  whom  one  had  now  to  address  humbly  as 
"Imperial  Highnesses,"  and  of  whole  shoals  of  daring 
adventurers,  of  suave  ruffians,  their  breasts  covered  with 
exotic  ribbons  and  orders,  their  lips  grimacing  with  obse- 
quious smiles,  while  they  delicately  murmured  evil,  joy- 
ously destroyed  myriads  of  reputations  far  fairer  than 
their  own,  or  spoke  aloud  sickening  flatteries  to  those 
gullible  enough  to  believe  them  ? 

A  fit  entourage  this  for  Eugenie  de  Montijo,  who  just 
then  was  at  the  height  of  her  beauty  and  of  her  triumph, 
and  who  imperiously,  if  not  Imperially,  had  set  her  little 
Spanish  foot  on  the  neck  of  France,  and  ruled  it  as  she 
listed;  a  fit  entourage  also  for  her  pale-faced,  waxed- 
mustached  Consort,  who  now,  censed  with  the  purple  in- 
cense of  worship  and  of  power,  had,  nevertheless,  raised 
himself  by  very  questionable  means  to  this  height  from 
the  quagmire  of  poverty  and  humiliation,  in  which  he 
had  so  long  vegetated. 

His  friends — accomplices,  one  is  tempted  to  say — had 
assisted  him  to  the  topmost  rung  of  that  ladder  of  craft 
with  which  he  had  for  years  attempted  to  escalade  the 
Throne,  and  his  immense  tact  —  for  tact  he  possessed  to 
a  supreme  degree — enabled  him  to  maintain  his  ill-bal- 
anced position.  None  could  now  deride,  but  all  bowed 
before  this  doubtful  Bonaparte,  who  had  become  the 
cloud-compeller  of  European  politics.  The  wretched 
mesalliance — I  mean  from  the  stand-point  of  policy — he 
had  made,  not  entirely  for  love,  but  faute  de  mieux  (all 
marriageable  Princesses  and  ladies  of  high  degree  and 
unblemished  record,  having,  curtly  and  with  touching 

335 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

unanimity,  declined  the  questionable  honor  of  sharing 
his  Crown)  had  for  a  short  while  obscured  his  swiftly- 
rising  star;  but  in  a  very  brief  space  of  time  thou- 
sands had  capitulated  before  the  surpassing  charm  and 
skill  of  the  modern  Aphrodite  he  had  married,  so  that 
few  were  left  to  debate  maliciously,  as  thousands  had 
done,  the  sorry  question  of  her  origin,  or  to  hint  that  her 
red-gold  tresses  and  exquisite  face  and  form  had  risen, 
not  from  pearly  sea-foam,  but  from  no  one  knew  where, 
and  that  her  pretensions  to  royal  blood  were,  indeed,  so 
one-sided  that  they  should  not  really  have  been  made  a 
subject  oi  such  pride  on  her  part. 

An  acknowledged  leader  of  Parisian  fashions,  Pari- 
sian ton,  Parisian  pleasure,  and  Parisian  coquetterie,  Sa 
Majeste  Vlmperatrice  had  but  one  thorn  in  her  bed  of 
roses,  one  pebble  in  her  satin  shoe,  one  regret  in  her  nar- 
row soul  —  namely,  her  hitherto  lamentable  incapacity 
to  bring  to  terms  the  true,  bona-fide,  loyal,  incorruptible 
French  Nobility,  who,  reared  under  the  formal  etiquette 
of  a  Hereditary  Monarchy,  or  simply  fed  upon  the  re- 
membrance of  days  when  the  sceptre  was  not  a  toy  to  be 
raffled  for  or  seized  and  detained  by  the  first-comer,  had 
not  permitted  themselves  to  be  vanquished  by  her  fas- 
cinations or  even  touched  by  her  loudly  declared  cult 
for  Marie  Antoinette. 

This  severity,  this  intolerance,  this  inconceivable  ob- 
stinacy and  imbecile  loyalty  to  a  past  regime  and  to 
antiquated  ideas  and  principles,  shocked  and  scandal- 
ized the  fair  and  petulant  interloper,  who  was  the  vic- 
tim of  such  absurd  and  rococo  traditions;  and,  of  a  truth, 
it  would  tax  all  the  sweetness  and  gentleness  for  which 
she  was  so  unjustly  famed  to  forgive  such  exiguity  of 
mind  when  finally  these  uncomfortable  people  surren- 
dered at  discretion — as  she  did  not  doubt  that  they 
would  do  some  day! 

236 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

If,  at  least,  she  had  been  able  to  treat  de  puissance-a- 
puissance  with  her  husband's  brother  and  sister  sover- 
eigns, it  would  have  consoled  her  a  little  for  this  deplor- 
able checkmate  administered  by  the  Faubourg  St. -Ger- 
main, and  even  to  a  still  greater  degree  by  the  provincial 
aristocracy;  but,  alas!  she  was  too  shrewd  not  to  realize 
that,  although  forced  by  political  considerations  to  recog- 
nize her  presence  on  the  Throne  of  France,  yet  that  gen- 
uine queens  and  empresses,  even  her  own  Spanish  Queen, 
Isabella,  whose  maid-of-honor  she  had  been,  regarded 
her  with  something  akin  to  scorn,  and  looked  upon  her 
merely  as  the  most  attractive  figure  of  a  huge  masquerade 
— nothing  more.  A  truly  galling  thought  this  for  a  very 
pretty  woman,  priding  herself  upon  the  extraordinarily 
patrician  slenderness  of  her  wrists  and  ankles! 

What  was  her  joy,  therefore,  when,  after  so  many  vain 
efforts  and  coquettings  with  foreign  Courts  and  the  an- 
cient Houses  of  the  French  aristocracy,  she  at  length  per- 
ceived an  opportunity  of  making  the  most  haughty  and 
most  superb  of  the  Imperial  dynasties  of  Europe  recant 
its  heterodoxy  towards  herself !  She  had  grasped  eagerly 
at  the  chance  of  becoming  the  political  sponsor — nay, 
more,  very  much  more  than  that — the  gracious  hostess 
and  devoted  friend  of  one  of  its  Archduchesses,  whom 
French  bayonets  were,  at  her  instigation,  to  elevate  to 
the  throne  as  Empress  of  Mexico. 

Snobbery  is  a  dangerous  defect,  tin  joueur  contrc  qui  nc 
rien  perdre  est  dejd  bcaucoup  gagner,  and  poor  Eugenie, 
for  all  the  pains  she  had  lavished  upon  its  satisfaction, 
had  been  hitherto  rewarded  with  the  blackest  ingratitude 
— some  said  with  the  direst  contempt;  but,  of  course, 
nobody  in  his  or  her  senses  uses  ugly  dictionary  words 
nowadays,  except  when  they  are  determined  to  go  in  for 
that  most  impolite  of  all  virtues,  truth. 

Charlotte  was,  to  a  certain  extent,  also  a  parvenue — 

237 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

at  any  rate  as  an  Empress.  True,  she  was  the  legitimate 
daughter  of  a  King,  and  the  Consort  of  an  Austrian  Arch- 
duke, but  her  Mexican  Crown  was  even  more  glaringly 
new  than  that  of  Eugenie.  She  realized  perfectly  that  it 
perched  but  insecurely  upon  her  silky  tresses,  and,  in  her 
effort  to  preserve  its  equilibrium,  was  especially  prepared 
to  resent  any  affront  to  her  newly  acquired  dignity.  She 
judged,  moreover,  her  hostess  to  be  far  too  presumptu- 
ous, and  baffled  all  her  blandishments  and  friendly  ad- 
vances, arousing  a  hatred  in  the  Spanish  woman  by  her 
scarcely  veiled  disdain  and  nonchalant  superciliousness, 
which,  la^er  on,  was  to  cost  her  and  her  ill-fated  husband 
dear. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Eugenie,  who  was  a  supe- 
rior "comedienne,"  concealed  her  injured  pride  and  cruel 
mortification  with  admirable  artifice.  She  did  not  for  a 
moment  allow  her  radiant  smile  to  grow  constrained,  nor 
permit  a  flash  of  anger  to  redden  her  velvety  cheek,  in 
which  effort  she  undoubtedly  showed  better  breeding 
than  did  Charlotte,  who,  with  the  insouciance  and  amuse- 
ment of  a  spoiled  child  demolishing  a  costly  toy,  pierced 
the  other's  assumed  purple  in  the  most  delicate  and  ag- 
onizing fashion,  with  a  gleam  of  clearly  noticeable  malice 
pailleting  her  big,  black  eyes.  She  could  not  have  said 
more  clearly,  if  she  had  used  words,  "I  am  not  in  the 
mood  to  thus  descend  to  your  level,  my  fair  lady";  and 
Eugenie,  in  her  priceless  laces  and  jewels,  her  diaphanous, 
snowy  draperies,  her  intoxicating  beauty,  swallowed  the 
ashes  of  humiliation  to  the  last  cinder,  without  giving 
any  sign  of  her  disappointment  and  rage,  but  promising 
herself  in-petto  to  be  a  merciless  creditor  towards  her 
haughty  antagonist  when  the  reckoning  day  should 
come. 

The  reckoning  day  came  round  sooner  than  even  she 
had  hoped,  when,  in  far-off  Mexico,  under  the  calm,  in- 

238 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

tensely  blue  tropic  sky;  under  the  full,  relentless  tropic 
sun  streaming  down  on  the  parched  earth,  the  cactus,  and 
tangled  chaparral ;  in  the  sultry  silence  of  early  morning, 
broken  only  by  the  rustle  of  the  wind  in  the  dried  grasses, 
Emperor  Maximilian  and  his  two  companions  in  torture, 
General  Miramon  and  General  Mejia,  stood  erect  and  un- 
faltering before  the  peloton  d 'execution,  outside  the  sinis- 
ter little  cemetery  crowning  the  hill  at  Queretaro. 

The  debt  was  paid!  Ah,  yes!  with  usurious  interest, 
a  full  and  overflowing  measure,  when  the  once  proud, 
magnificent,  disdainful  Charlotte,  wearied  from  long 
travel,  breathless  in  her  agony,  giddy  with  swiftly  dawn- 
ing insanity,  dazed  and  torn  by  fear,  shame,  and  despair, 
cast  herself  at  the  feet  of  Napoleon,  and  implored  him,  by 
every  justice  in  earth  and  heaven,  to  succor  before  it  was 
too  late!  too  late!  too  late!  the  man  he  had  sworn  to 
protect;  while  cool  and  serene  the  now  fully  avenged 
Eugenie,  almost  doubting  her  senses,  listened,  not  with- 
out feminine  triumph,  to  the  piteous  wails  of  the  crazed, 
wild,  black-robed  woman,  crouching  there  upon  the 
ground  like  a  stricken  animal,  crying  aloud,  with  the 
hoarse  fierceness  of  unbearable  misery: 

'  You  will  not  dare  to  let  him  die!  He  is  an  Austrian, 
not  a  Frenchman  or  a  Mexican.  He  accepted  the  Throne 
of  Mexico,  not  for  his  own  gratification,  but  at  my  in- 
stance. Do  your  worst  to  me,  but,  by  all  justice,  all  pity, 
save  him !  Do  not  let  him  die  a  dog's  death  out  there  in 
that  cruel,  brutal  land  of  fire,  assassination,  and  treach- 
ery!" 

In  her  madness  she  offered  again  and  again  to  deliver 
up  her  own  life  for  his,  repeating  her  monotonous  refrain, 
not  to  wait  until  it  was  too  late!  too  late!  too  late! 
She  had  now  no  knowledge  left  save  this — no  heed  for 
whatsoever  her  bruised  and  shattered  brain  suggested 
they  might  do  to  her — she,  who  had  come  so  far  to  ob- 

239 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

tain  help  for  her  doomed  husband,  and  piteously  she  re- 
peated again  and  again,  "Save  him,  before  he  dies  in  that 
hell!  Have  you  not  mercy  enough  even  to  lift  a  finger 
to  rescue  him  from  the  doom  to  which  you  have  deliv- 
ered— sold  him?  Let  me  die  in  his  stead!  I  will  never 
bid  you  spare  me  one  pang,  only  save  the  life  you  and  I 
have  sent  out  to  destruction!" 

At  length  her  vehemence  brought  a  fear  upon  those 
two  Imperial  adventurers,  for  if  she  judged  that  they, 
in  their  wanton  cruelty,  really  were  the  murderers  of  her 
husband,  she  also  clearly  believed  herself  to  be  far  more 
his  destroyer,  his  evil  spirit,  the  selfish,  heartless  counsel- 
lor whose  limitless  ambition  had  consigned  him  to  mental 
and  corporal  torment;  and  in  the  crimson  mists  of  her 
confused  censes  she  suffered  a  torture  which  no  human 
eye  could  witness  undismayed.  Their  almost  supersti- 
tious terror  kept  them  from  raising  her,  until  her  worn- 
out  strength,  her  over-strained  nerves  succumbed,  and 
she  fell  back,  dead  to  all  sentient  life,  to  all  remembrance, 
to  all  thought,  her  pride  of  nature,  her  beauty,  her  Im- 
perial ambitions,  her  love  for  domination,  her  hopes, 
her  sufferings  momentarily  killed  within  her  by  this 
last  and  supreme  blow — their  refusal  to  help  her  rescue 
him. 

Shortly  afterwards,  at  a  private  audience  at  the  Vati- 
can, whither  she  had  gone,  only  to  discover  that  here, 
also,  there  was  no  help  for  her  husband,  the  last  thread 
snapped.  In  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Father  her  rea- 
son fled,  and  she  was  forever  spared  the  tidings  of  the 
catastrophe  which  she  had  so  dreaded. 

Years  have  come  and  years  have  gone,  cold  winters 
and  burning  summers,  verdant  springs  and  golden  au- 
tumns have  succeeded  each  other,  but  Charlotte,  ex- 
Empress  of  Mexico,  is  still  insensible  to  all  physical  and 
mental  suffering,  wrapped  in  a  heavy,  sullen  darkness  of 

240 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

soul,  worse  a  thousand  times  than  death,  and  of  which 
she  gave  the  first  signs  at  the  Tuileries. 

Now  and  again  the  sound  of  a  light  summer  breeze, 
ruffling  the  fanlike  leaves  of  the  palms  brought  out  to 
embellish  the  gardens  of  the  royal  domain,  half  palace 
and  half  prison,  wherein  she  vegetates,  has  wrenched 
from  her  a  cry,  awaking  all  the  echoes  of  the  vast,  shad- 
owy park  enshrouding  her  sinister  abode — a  piteous  wail 
which  thrills  and  terrifies  her  keepers.  She  springs  then 
to  her  feet,  convulsed  to  passionate  energy  for  a  few 
fleeting  minutes,  and  rushes  forward,  with  her  old  cry, 
"Save  him  before  it  is  too  late!  too  late!"  Then  she 
laughs  aloud,  the  laugh  of  a  breaking  heart,  and  quivers 
from  head  to  foot,  until,  under  their  drooping  lids,  her 
eyes  lose  their  feverish  light,  and  she  relapses  into  her 
icy  calm — her  merciful  oblivion. 

Does  Eugenie,  now  discrowned  also — lonely,  widowed, 
childless — feel  any  remorse  ?  Does  she,  who  has  suffered 
as  her  so  uselessly  proclaimed  heroine,  Marie  Antoinette, 
Queen  of  France,  suffered,  when  the  Crown  was  torn  from 
her  golden  head,  and  she  was  submitted  to  the  gibes  and 
insults  of.  the  people,  admit  to  herself  how  great  was  her 
responsibility  in  the  events  which  in  the  end  consigned 
Maximilian  and  Charlotte,  one  to  an  unjust  and  bar- 
barous death,  the  other  to  despair  and  madness? 

Some  eight  or  ten  years  ago  I  chanced  to  visit  the 
rooms  of  a  certain  historical  society  in  a  large  city  in  the 
vicinity  of  New  York.  Approaching  through  the  dusty 
roar  of  the  main  business  street,  with  its  trolley  cars  and 
lumbering  throng  of  vehicles,  I  obtained  admission  by  a 
dark  hallway  and  staircase  to  a  large,  unkempt  apart- 
ment, dim  in  the  light  of  a  cloudy  day,  that  smelled  of 
musty  books.  The  place  was  crowded  with  books;  they 
filled  ranks  of  shelves,  reaching  nearly  to  the  ceiling  and 
occupying  half  the  width  of  the  floor  space ;  they  lay  upon 

16  241 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

tables,  interspersed  with  a  litter  of  papers;  they  reposed 
in  dingy  cabinets  along  the  walls,  which  were  hung  with 
faded  and  grimy  portraits;  and  through  doors,  opening 
this  way  and  that,  I  could  see  into  small,  carpetless 
rooms,  apparently  overflowing  with  more  books,  pict- 
ures, and  odds  and  ends  of  historical  lumber.  There 
were  a  couple  of  attendants,  who  appeared  to  be  native 
to  this  dreary  chamber,  and  one  of  them,  while  waiting 
upon  me,  directed  my  attection  to  a  valuable  souvenir. 
Hanging  to  a  nail  in  the  end  of  one  of  the  row  of  book- 
shelves was  a  small,  faded  photograph,  showing  Maxi- 
milian, Archduke  and  Emperor,  in  his  coffin,  which  had 
apparently  been  set  upright  on  end  for  the  convenience 
of  the  photographer.  The  body  was  absolutely  un- 
clothed, except  for  a  cloth  about  the  loins,  the  eyes  closed 
as  in  sleep,  and  the  bullet -marks  of  the  executioners 
showed  plainly  as  dark,  round  spots  upon  the  rigid  form. 
An  old  and  faded  letter  from  the  donor,  who  was  appar- 
ently an  enthusiastic  partisan  of  Juarez,  hung  below! 

My  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  I  turned  away — tears  at 
the  thought  of  the  terrible  sorrow  that  had  fallen,  so 
long  before,  upon  the  much-enduring  man  who  still 
stands  at  the  helm  of  the  Austro-Hungarian  Empire. 

So  this  was  the  end!  His  favorite  brother,  a  man 
of  the  bluest  blood  in  Europe,  standing  close  in  the 
succession  to  an  ancient  throne,  young,  high-souled, 
and  chivalrous,  sent  out  by  a  woman's  whim  to  be  mur- 
dered by  half-bred  savages,  and  dishonored  in  his  death 
that  the  curiosity  of  the  many  might  be  cheaply  satisfied. 

This  loss  was,  indeed,  to  Francis-Joseph  a  sorrow  and 
a  bitterness  that  never  wholly  passed  away.  His  other 
brothers  were  dear  to  him;  but  Archduke  Ferdinand 
(Maximilian)  had  been  dearer  far.  They  had  grown  up 
together  in  a  much  greater  intimacy  than  ever  existed 
between  him   and  the   two   younger  Archdukes,  Karl- 

242 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Ludwig  and  Ludwig- Victor.  Indeed,  the  elder  brother 
had  felt  always  a  sort  of  protecting  tenderness  for  the 
simplicity  of  nature  and  the  comparatively  bodily  del- 
icacy of  Ferdinand.  He  had  been  strongly  opposed 
to  his  accepting  the  Crown  of  Mexico,  and,  overruled  by 
Charlotte's  fiery  will,  had  yielded  only  when  Napoleon 
III.  engaged  himself,  by  a  treaty  signed  at  the  castle 
of  Miramar,  in  the  spring  of  1864,  to  leave  an  army  of 
twenty-five  thousand  men  in  Mexico  until  the  new  Em- 
peror became  able  to  gather  together  an  equivalent  force 
of  loyal  Mexicans  and  of  foreign  mercenaries. 

How  this  treaty  was  adhered  to  and  what  unwarrant- 
able and  shallow  excuses  Napoleon  made  for  breaking  it 
is  too  well  known  to  need  repetition  here. 

Francis-Joseph  never  forgave  this  flagrant  breach  of 
faith,  and  in  1870,  when  to  have  made  common  cause 
with  France  would  have  been  to  crush  Prussia,  and  set 
Austria  in  her  ancient  place  as  leader  of  the  German 
states,  he  held  his  hand  rather  than  become  the  ally  of 
the  man  who  had  abandoned  his  brother,  with  the  result 
that  the  second  Empire  fell  like  a  pricked  bubble. 

Archduchess  Sophia  mourned  her  second  son  with  a 
grief  that  time  could  do  little  to  assuage,  but  those  who 
knew  her  well  saw  that  greater  even  than  her  sorrow  for 
Ferdinand  was  the  anxiety  she  felt  for  her  first-born, 
whose  poignant,  conscience-stricken  distress  at  having  al- 
lowed his  brother  to  enter  into  so  perilous  a  contract  put 
even  his  magnificent  health  in  peril.  She  remained  con- 
tinually by  his  side,  tending  him  with  her  usual  devotion, 
but  accusing  him  in  her  innermost  heart  of  morbidity, 
although  she  knew  well  that  no  man  as  active  in  duty 
and  unsparing  of  himself  as  Francis-Joseph  can  be  mor- 
bid; and  that,  moreover,  bon  sang  ne  pent  mentir,  even 
when  one's  conception  of  duty  is  too  exalted,  perchance, 
and  one's  capacity  for  family  affections  of  almost  too  high 

243 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

an  order;  so  she  was  not  greatly  surprised,  after  all,  when 
the  Emperor's  steel  nerves  and  perfect  natural  consti- 
tution reasserted  themselves,  and  when  he  resumed  his 
habitual,  unceasing  labor,  resolutely,  generously,  and 
justly,  and  with  the  same  success  as  before  this  blow 
had  fallen  upon  him. 

After  the  first  shock  he  gave  no  sign  of  the  sense  of 
deep  bereavement  and  regret  that  weighed  like  a  pall 
upon  him,  and  haunted  him  so  greatly  that  not  even  his 
reconciliation  with  his  wife,  which,  as  I  have  elsewhere1 
recounted,  had  taken  place  just  before  their  coronation 
as  King  and  Queen  of  Hungary,  during  the  very  days  of 
1867,  when  Maximilian  was  going  through  his  long  agony 
on  the  other  side  of  the  world,  could  console  him. 

He  took  long  rides  and  long  walks  alone  during  the  re- 
mainder of  that  fateful  summer,  but  the  rest  of  the  time 
he  spent  in  unremitting  application  to  his  heavy  task  as 
Head  of  the  turbulent  Dual  Empire  and  as  Chief  of  the 
House  of  Habsburg.  He  forced  himself  to  an  even  closer 
attention  to  his  work,  and  sought  out,  with  even  greater 
eagerness,  the  smallest  details  concerning  the  welfare  of 
the  millions  who  depended  on  him,  in  order  to  escape  the 
thoughts  that  bit  deeply  into  his  soul ;  and  soon  the  Im- 
perial Household,  so  long  disturbed  by  the  estrangement 
between  the  Emperor  and  Empress,  then  by  the  long 
and  brilliant  festivities  of  the  Hungarian  coronation,  and, 
lastly,  by  the  tragedy  of  Queretaro,  resumed  its  former 
stately  quiet,  its  routine  of  adamantine  etiquette,  as 
though  these  things  had  never  been. 

Elizabeth  had  proved  to  him  that  a  great  love  is  as  in- 
exhaustible in  its  mercy  as  the  ocean,  and  as  profound  in 
its  comprehension,  and  he  found  in  her  sweet  presence 
and  sympathy  his  greatest  comfort .    His  mother's  strong, 

1  The  Martyrdom  of  an  Empress. 
244 


KRZST,        ARCHDUCHESS     ELIZABETH  —  NOW    PRINCESS    OTTO 
VON    WINDISCHGRATZ — GRANDDAUGHTER    OF    THE     EMPEROR 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

resolute  spirit,  perfect  serenity  in  action,  quick  decision, 
if  they  had  brought  him  one  sorrow,  had  also  spared  him 
many  troubles,  fatigues,  and  disappointments,  which 
would  otherwise  have  been  his.  His  children  were 
strong,  healthy,  beautiful;  and  yet  he  looked  at  times 
weary,  unhappy,  much  older  than  his  thirty-seven  years 
warranted,  and  there  were  threads  of  gray  in  his  hair. 

The  Emperor  is  never  seen  to  greater  advantage  than 
when  exercising  his  rights  and  privileges  as  omnipotent 
Chief  of  the  grandest  Imperial  Family  in  Europe,  but 
which,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  also  one  of  the  most  diffi- 
cult to  manage. 

Endowed  with  that  winning  tact,  which  is  one  of  the 
most  precious  qualities  a  man  can  possess,  and  of  an  as- 
cendency he  knew  how  to  exercise  even  over  those  most 
opposed  to  him,  he  commanded  the  respect  of  each  and 
every  Habsburg  of  them  all. 

Between  him  and  Archduke  Karl-Ludwig  there  was, 
however,  a  vague,  intangible  antagonism,  veiled  on  his 
part  under  an  admirable  courtesy  and  kindness,  and  on 
his  brother's  by  a  none  too  clever  assumption  of  indif- 
ference, for  the  latter  did  not  always  forbear  from  sar- 
casm and  criticism  of  what  he  was  wont  to  sneeringly 
call  "  His  Majesty's  advanced  ideas." 

Of  course,  Karl-Ludwig  had  an  unacknowledged  re- 
sentment against  the  Emperor  as  the  owner  of  all  he  con- 
sidered that  he  himself  was  far  more  fitted  to  possess. 

That  the  difference  of  three  years  in  the  date  of  their 
respective  births  should  have  given  all  to  the  elder  one 
and  nothing  save  wealth  and  the  rank  of  Archduke  to 
himself  was  a  perpetual  bitterness  to  him,  and  when  he 
thought  of  it  he  almost  hated  the  handsome,  stately, 
chivalrous  man,  who  towered  immeasurably  above  him 
in  every  respect,  and  he  watched  him  with  the  jealous 
suspicion  of  a  narrow-minded  man,  everlastinglv  dread- 

24s 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ing  to  find  himself  placed  at  a  disadvantage,  or  unduly 
forced  into  the  background. 

All  this,  of  course,  was  more  or  less  hidden  under  the 
polished  serenity  of  high  breeding;  but,  to  a  keen  ob- 
server, it  was  not  difficult  to  notice  the  consuming  envy, 
the  latent  hostility,  the  barely  slumbering  enmity,  be- 
trayed by  a  word,  a  glance,  a  mere  accent  of  the  voice  of 
Blaubart,  as  Karl-Ludwig  was  called  by  the  Viennese, 
in  allusion  to  the  frequency  of  his  matrimonial  ventures. 

To  a  lesser  degree,  for  his  nature  is  neither  a  strong 
nor  a  particulary  bitter  one,  Archduke  Ludwig- Victor  was 
jealous  of-the  unfeigned  attachment  of  his  subjects  to  the 
Emperor,  of  his  good  looks,  of  his  social  successes,  of  his 
mastery  of  all  field  sports,  of  his  skill  with  horses,  his  re- 
markable intelligence,  his  wit,  his  daring,  his  magnificent 
record  as  a  general  and  as  a  cavalry  leader,  in  fact,  of  all 
the  endowments  and  attainments  which  were  somewhat 
lacking  in  himself,  although,  in  justice  to  him,  it  must  be 
said  that  this  Archduke  has  never,  for  an  instant,  envied 
his  brother  either  crown  or  sceptre,  his  ambitions  run- 
ning in  an  entirely  different  groove. 

He,  too,  however,  used  to  look  often  strangely  at  him, 
his  eyes,  of  lightest  possible  blue,  dwelling  gloomily  upon 
the  Emperor,  whom  he  considered  to  be  the  most  brilliant 
and  happiest  of  men,  because  all  women  were  in  love 
with  him,  his  wife  the  most  of  all. 

The  very  kindness  and  generosity  of  Francis- Joseph 
made  him  feel  insignificant  and  humbled,  so  that  now 
and  again  a  momentary  sting  of  regret  for  his  ill-feeling, 
touched  Ludwig- Victor  as  he  looked  at  the  grave,  some- 
times, of  later  years,  decidedly  stern,  expression  of  that 
over-burdened  man;  but,  alas!  the  pleasures  of  the  gayest 
and  wittiest  city  in  the  world  absorbed  him  so  complete- 
ly, his  butterfly  -  like  dartings  and  flutterings  amid  the 
swarm  of  lovely  women  for  which  Vienna  is  so  justly 

246 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

celebrated  filled  both  his  time  and  his  brain  so  unceasing- 
ly, that  he  really  had  no  opportunity  to  consider  a  matter 
so  far  beyond  the  pale  of  his  happy  hunting-ground  as  a 
better  entente  between  himself  and  his  Imperial  brother. 

One  evening,  however,  the  rift  within  the  lute  acquired 
more  serious  proportions.  There  was  a  Ball-bei-Hof  at 
the  Burg,  accompanied  by  all  the  pomp  and  magnificence 
which  characterizes  such  festivities.  The  long  and  gor- 
geous figures  of  the  second  quadrille,  which,  at  the  Vien- 
nese Court,  is  always  transformed  into  a  cotillon,  were  in 
progress,  and  Archduke  Lud wig-Victor  was  dancing  it 
with  a  more  than  attractive  young  widow,  possessed  of  a 
beautifully  shaped  person  (which  she  exhibited  as  freely 
as  etiquette  permits),  of  a  wealth  of  dark,  glossy  curls, 
and  of  dazzling  jewels  displayed  lavishly  upon  her  white 
skin. 

This  fascinating  lady  was  a  saint  neither  by  nature  nor 
by  habit,  and,  although  she  belonged  to  a  family  which 
was  very  Hoffdhig  indeed,  she  was  not  imbued  with 
the  pure,  old  traditions  of  gentle  blood  to  the  extent 
of  foregoing  the  pleasures  procured  by  singularly  viva- 
cious flirtations,  lively  card-playing,  and  of  two  or  three 
other  peches  mignons  of  an  even  less  innocuous  charac- 
ter. In  one  word,  she  was  really  a  little  bit  wicked — 
just  a  little  bit,  hardly  worth  mentioning,  but  still  enough 
to  make  her  the  object  of  cordial  dislike  on  the  part  of 
the  Emperor,  the  Empress,  and  the  redoubtable  Madame 
Mere  (Archduchess  Sophia).  "I  cannot  imagine,"  the 
latter  would  say,  acidly,  to  her  daughter-in-law,  "how 
such  manners  can  be  admired  or  even  tolerated  here," 
whenever  she  observed  the  slim,  graceful  figure  of  her 
bite  noire  treading  voluptuously  the  mazes  of  an  in- 
toxicating waltz,  or  heard  her  quite  unnecessarily  shrill, 
tantalizing  laugh  echo  under  the  sombrely  superb,  sol- 
emn ceilings  of  the  Imperial  Palace. 

247 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

On  the  night  I  mention,  when  Archduke  Ludwig- Vic- 
tor led  her  out  to  take  her  place  in  the  cotillon,  the  light 
of  the  gigantic  rock-crystal  chandeliers  falling  on  the 
armor  of  diamonds,  the  immense  court -train  of  bright, 
rose  -  colored  satin,  and  the  lace  jupe  that  so  well  set 
off  her  lithe  figure,  the  Emperor  glanced  at  the  pair  with 
displeasure,  and,  turning  to  the  Empress,  who  was  stand- 
ing beside  him,  with  her  famous  emeralds  about  her 
throat,  in  her  glorious  hair,  and  on  her  breast,  and  her 
long  robe  of  palest  pearl-hued  brocade  and  silver  tissue, 
looped  up  with  clusters  of  Persian  lilac  over  priceless 
laces — the, very  embodiment  of  what  an  Empress  should 
be — he  said,  impatiently: 

"  I  think  that  this  mutual  attraction  will  have  to  cease. 
The  woman's  audacity  is  past  all  bounds ;  and,  as  to  him, 
he  is  having  his  very  soul  turned  inside  out,  like  a  glove, 
and  will  end  by  committing  some  irremediable  piece  of 
folly." 

Elizabeth  had  never  looked  fairer  and  lovelier  than 
she  did  that  evening,  and  there  was  so  startling  a  con- 
trast between  her  and  that  past-mistress  of  all  arts  of 
provocation,  that  perfidious  Vivien,  dancing  yonder,  and 
who  had  set  her  cap  at  a  man  not  physically  or  mentally 
very  attractive,  merely  because  he  was  an  Archduke  and 
wealthy,  that  he  frowned  as  he  watched  the  little  rose- 
pink  satin  dame  gaze  up  with  visibly  artificial  adoration 
at  her  delighted  cavalier. 

'You  will  find  it  difficult  to  disenchant  him,"  Eliza- 
beth replied,  quietly  "She  is  very  accaparente,  and 
possesses  attractions  which,  to  an  inflammable  man  like 
your  brother,  must  be  quite  irresistible,  if  you  pardon 
me  for  saying  so." 

"That  is  what  we  are  going  to  see,"  he  exclaimed, 
angrily ;  and  as  soon  as  the  ball  was  over — the  Court  of 
Vienna  still  retains  many  homespun  virtues  and  retires 

248 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

very  early — the  Emperor  sent  for  his  brother,  and  gave 
him  to  understand,  clearly  and  concisely,  that  under  no 
circumstances  could  a  marriage,  even  morganatic,  be- 
tween him  and  his  inamorata  be  countenanced.  More- 
over, the  finality  of  his  tone,  as  he  spoke,  gave  the  im- 
pression that  it  would  be  easier  to  uproot  mountains  and 
pluck  hills  from  their  bases,  like  turnips,  than  for  this 
decision  to  be  ever  reconsidered. 

In  the  perplexity  and  perturbation  of  the  moment, 
Ludwig-Victor's  whole  intelligence  was  absorbed  in  the 
effort  of  concealing  from  the  Emperor  the  real  impor- 
tance of  the  promises  he  had  allowed  himself  to  make  to 
the  lady  under  discussion,  and  his  rejoinders  were  un- 
wise. 

Finally,  the  Emperor,  losing  all  patience,  exclaimed: 

"Do  not  let  us  fence  in  this  useless  fashion.  You  must 
know,  you  must  have  seen  that  such  an  alliance — if  you 
are  really  simple  enough  to  contemplate  so  impossible  a 
step — would  be  your  ruin,  in  any  and  every  interpreta- 
tion of  the  word.  If  I  were  to  let  you  have  your  own 
way,  even  about  what  you  wish  me  to  consider  as  a  mere 
flirtation,  it  would  lead  you  into  paths  not  pleasant  to 
you  or  to  us.  Fortunately,  it  is  difficult  to  attach  much 
importance  to  your  sentiments,  for  they  are,  as  a  rule, 
not  remarkable  for  steadfastness  and  duration." 

Ludwig- Victor,  embarrassed  by  the  undeniable  truths 
contained  in  these  accusations,  and  fully  conscious  that 
it  would  be  vain  to  controvert  them,  began  to  bluster 
something  about  the  injustice  displayed  towards  a  wom- 
an who — a  woman  that — but  was  interrupted  brusquely, 
and  with  an  indignation  from  which  a  touch  of  hauteur 
was  not  absent ;  and  this  galled  the  younger  man  so  great- 
ly that  he  lost  his  temper  and  replied  with  considerable 
scorn  and  even  insolence. 

The  Emperor  took,  at  first,  no  apparent  notice  of  his 

249 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

words;  but  when  he  saw  that  his  self-control  had  been 
also  utterly  lost  in  the  affray,  he  suddenly  stepped  for- 
ward and  said  some  few  things  which  cut  the  Archduke 
to  the  quick,  reminding  him,  among  other  things,  of  his, 
Francis-Joseph's,  triple  title  to  interfere  with  his  actions, 
— namely,  those  of  elder  brother,  of  Sovereign,  and  of 
military  superior. 

"  In  conclusion,"  the  Emperor  said,  sternly  and  bitter- 
ly, "I  warn  you  that  if  you  do  not  obey  me  I  will  give 
you  some  command  in  Southern  Hungary  or  in  North- 
ern Poland  which  will,  I  believe,  cause  an  effectual  break 
between  you  and  a  woman  who,  if  I  read  her  rightly, 
will  scarcely  sacrifice  her  comforts  and  pleasures  to  fol- 
low you  to  such  regions.  I  knew  you  were  singularly 
blind  where  women  are  concerned.  I  knew  you  were 
gullible ;  but  I  did  not  realize  the  lengths  to  which  your 
unbridled  fancies  would  lead  you,  nor  the  amazing  ex- 
tent of  your  fatuity.  Moreover,  if  you  do  not  wish  to 
listen  to  harsher  comments  on  your  conduct,  I  will  advise 
you  to  avoid  our  mother's  presence  for  a  few  days.  And 
now  you  can  go,"  he  concluded,  in  the  same  tone  of  curt 
command. 

The  naked  rays  of  an  unshaded  lamp  shone  on  his  feat- 
ures, displaying  to  the  culprit  an  expression  of  inexora- 
ble severity  and  of  extreme  displeasure,  and  in  the  short 
silence  that  followed  the  echo  of  one  sentence  he  had 
just  heard  reverberated  in  Ludwig- Victor's  ears  —  "on 
n'epouse  pas  les  femmes  de  cette  sorte."  He  had  been 
moved  by  it  to  an  ecstasy  of  shame  and  fury,  and,  scarce- 
ly conscious  of  what  he  did,  he  took  his  leave,  vowing 
to  himself  never  to  forget  or  to  forgive  what  had  just 
taken  place. 

Reason,  that  calm,  sad  counsellor  to  which  so  few  ever 
hearken,  never  effectively  governed  Ludwig- Victor  with 
regard  to  his  many  entanglements,  which,  on  more  than 

250 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

one  occasion,  caused  his  brother  serious  anxiety,  for  the 
Archduke  untiringly  pursued  extraordinary  fancies, 
which  several  times  he  came  perilously  near  to  trans- 
forming into  stern  realities.  The  mere  presence  of  a 
pretty  woman  made  him  entirely  forget,  for  the  time 
being,  what  he  possessed  of  prudence,  as  well  as  his 
knowledge  of  the  world,  and  of  what  the  world  demands, 
so  that  time  and  again  he  had  to  be  rescued  from  the 
sacrifice  and  humiliation  invariably  entailed  by  mesalli- 
ances even  of  a  left-handed  nature. 

The  already  overwrought  and  overworked  Emperor 
was,  therefore,  ceaselessly  worried  and  annoyed  by  the 
untiring  self -surrenders  of  this  guileless  younger  brother, 
whose  one  ambition  was  to  love  and  to  be  loved,  and  who 
could  not  permit  such  feelings  as  his  to  be  trodden  by 
the  cloven  hoof  of  worldly  considerations.  Truly,  in 
this  instance,  the  proverb  which  says,  "Happy  are  the 
loves  of  the  simple  of  heart,"  proved  discouragingly  un- 
true. 

He  had  learned,  however,  to  dread  the  lightning  of  his 
elder  brother's  eyes,  which  followed  his  airy  gyrations 
with  the  repressed  passion  of  a  strong  man  controlling 
his  scorn  for  what  he  absolutely  disapproves  and  cannot 
comprehend;  but  the  antagonism  which,  ever  since  the 
night  of  their  first  encounter  on  this  subject  had  taken 
the  place  of  a  feeble  and  harmless  jealousy,  proved  an- 
other thorn  in  Francis-Joseph's  plentifully  armed  crown. 

The  gilded  and  jewelled  trappings  of  sovereignty  are  at 
times  a  heavy  yoke,  and  as  year  followed  year  the  om- 
nipotent Ruler  of  Austro-Hungary  felt  the  weight  of  his 
splendid  harness  weighing  more  and  more  on  his  shoul- 
ders, the  turbulent  younger  members  of  the  Imperial 
Family  contributing  not  a  little  to  this  discomfort,  and 
occasionally  rendering  his  duties  as  Chief  of  his  House 
even  more  difficult  than  those  he  owed  to  the  State. 


CHAPTER  XI 

With  his  brothers  and  sisters-in-law  the  Emperor 
stood  on  the  very  best  of  terms,  even  with  the  charm- 
ing Princess,  afterwards  Princess  von  Thurn  und  Taxis, 
who  had  seen  her  younger  and  more  fascinating  sister 
preferred  -to  herself  by  him,  and  who  might  reasonably 
have  been  suspected  of  a  little  rancor  and  coldness 
where  he  was  concerned. 

Queen  Maria-Sophia  of  Naples,  for  instance,  always 
was,  and  still  is,  a  great  and  valued  friend  of  Francis- 
Joseph's,  and  often,  in  moments  of  trouble,  has  he  sought 
the  advice  of  that  extraordinarily  level-headed  woman, 
whose  romantic  story  would  alone  furnish  the  material 
for  a  volume. 

Queen  Maria-Sophia,  although  by  no  means  as  abso- 
lutely beautiful  as  her  sister,  the  late  Empress,  was  a 
strikingly  lovely  woman.  Tall  and  slender,  and  auburn- 
haired,  admirably  gifted  and  talented,  and,  besides  this, 
possessed  of  a  courage  which  cannot  be  designated  by 
any  other  word  than  that  of  absolute  heroism,  she  was, 
and  will  remain  at  all  times,  one  of  the  most  notewor- 
thy personalities  of  the  nineteenth  century;  nay,  one 
might  go  further  than  that,  for,  even  when  reading  the 
dust-flecked  pages  of  ancient  parchments  and  black-let- 
ter records,  one  does  not  encounter  in  any  descriptions 
of  those  great  queens  who  have  long  ago  passed  from 
this  world  a  superior  to  this  remarkable  woman.  More- 
over, she  joins  to  the  beauty  and  graciousness  of 
dainty  womanhood  the  strength  of  character,  the  quick- 

252 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ness  of  decision,  and  the  indomitable  pluck  which  is 
generally  supposed  to  belong  exclusively  to  the  stronger 
sex.  It  might  be  added  to  this  truthful  and  by  no  means 
overdrawn  eulogium,  that  Maria-Sophia  is  also  the  most 
modest  and  unassuming  Royal  Lady  in  existence,  a 
fact  which  was  abundantly  proved  when  it  was  dis- 
covered that  it  was  really  she  who,  during  the  short  but 
terribly  eventful  period  during  which  she  was  de  facto 
Queen  of  Naples  and  of  the  two  Sicilies,  played  the  noble 
part  which  ought  by  right  to  have  been  the  privilege  and 
pride  of  her  self-indulgent  Consort.  A  few  short  para- 
graphs are,  however,  lamentably  inadequate  to  give  even 
a  hint  of  the  series  of  tragedies  which  fell  to  Maria- 
Sophia's  share,  or  to  do  her  such  justice  as  she  deserves. 

Everybody  knows  that  King  Ferdinand  II.  of  the 
two  Sicilies,  much  perturbed  by  the  growing  agitation 
which  made  itself  felt  in  1858,  and  which  even  his  iron 
hand  seemed  no  longer  able  to  repress,  conceived  the 
idea  of  opening  negotiations  concerning  a  matrimonial 
alliance  for  his  son,  the  Duke  of  Calabria,  afterward, 
during  less  than  two  years,  King  Francis  II.,  thinking, 
perchance,  that  he  could  strengthen  his  own  position  by 
binding  his  family  yet  more  closely  than  it  already  was 
(his  second  wife,  Maria-Theresa  being  an  Austrian  Arch- 
duchess) to  the  powerful  house  of  Habsburg.  He  there- 
fore asked  for  the  hand  of  young  Princess  Maria-Sophia, 
daughter  of  Duke  Maximilian,  in  Bavaria,  and,  as  I  said 
before,  the  much -loved  sister  of  Empress  Elizabeth  of 
Austria. 

Indeed,  when  all  negotiations  about  this  matter  had 
been  satisfactorily  brought  to  a  conclusion,  it  was  Em- 
press Elizabeth  herself  who  accompanied  the  fair  bride 
as  far  as  the  Neapolitan  frigate  which  was  waiting  in 
the  harbor  of  Trieste,  and  who  handed  her  over  to  the 
special  Ambassadors  sent  by  King  Ferdinand  to  escort 

253 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

her  to  Bari,  where  her  young  Consort  was  awaiting  her. 
I  use  the  word  Consort  designedly,  for  a  marriage  by 
proxy — the  last  one  of  these  mediaeval  survivals  to  occur 
in  Europe — had  taken  place  at  the  bride's  palace  of 
Munich  on  January  8,  1859,  Prince  Luitpold  of  Bavaria 
representing  the  bridegroom,  whilst  the  official  cere- 
mony only  took  place  at  Bari  on  the  third  of  February 
following. 

On  February  2nd,  the  frigate  Fulminante  brought 
Maria-Sophia  and  her  suite  safely  to  the  harbor  of  Bari, 
where  she  was  received  with  a  great  deal  of  enthusiasm 
and  much  public  rejoicings. 

Unfortunately,  this  great  occasion  was  somewhat  sad- 
dened by  the  fact  that  the  King  was  lying  dangerously 
ill  from  a  mysterious  malady,  which  all  his  friends  and 
retainers  attributed  to  his  having  been  poisoned  by  some 
agent  of  his  numerous  enemies  during  his  trip  from  his 
capital  of  Naples  to  Bari.  So  serious,  indeed,  waj  the 
aged  Monarch's  condition  that  the  departure  of  the  royal 
party  from  Bari  was  postponed  until  March  7,  when 
the  dying  King,  together  with  the  Queen  and  the  young 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Calabria,  boarded  the  Fulminante 
and  sailed  for  Naples. 

In  spite  of  the  King's  condition,  there  were  numerous 
and  magnificent  fetes  given  by  the  Neapolitans  to  wel- 
come their  future  King  and  his  bride;  and  it  is  a  tragical 
and  pathetic  thing,  indeed,  to  think  that  whilst  the 
streets,  the  parks,  and  palaces  of  beautiful  Naples  were 
strewn  with  flowers,  filled  with  music,  and  gay  with 
fluttering  flags,  within  the  great  dusky  Palazzio  of 
Caserta,  the  father  of  the  radiant  young  couple,  for 
whom  all  these  demonstrations  were  being  made,  was 
lying  on  a  bed  of  sufferings  so  great  that  they  amounted 
to  absolute  bodily  torture. 

This  man  of  iron,  whose  adamantine  will-power  had 

254 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

held  so  long  in  subjection  his  eleven  millions  of  sub- 
jects, and  who  had  been  called  by  many  a  cruel  despot 
and  tyrant,  now  tossed  on  his  richly  broidered  pillows 
under  the  high  -  plumed  canopy  bearing  the  arms  of 
his  House,  mumbling  agonized  prayers  to  Almighty 
God,  craving  pardon  for  his  sins,  and  pouring  out  heart- 
rending entreaties  and  supplications  for  a  prolon- 
gation of  existence  and  a  diminution  of  his  dreadful 
torment. 

Of  course,  nobody  dreams  of  attempting  to  condone 
the  governmental  methods  of  King  Ferdinand  II.,  for 
his  name  has  remained  a  by-word  throughout  Italy  to 
this  very  day.  But,  nevertheless,  had  it  not  been  for 
his  wife,  the  ambitious,  autocratic,  and  unscrupulous 
Queen  Maria-Theresa,  his  extreme  and  superstitious 
piety  might  have  served  to  preserve  him  from  a  course 
of  policy  that  has  rendered  him  unenviably  celebrated 
in  history  for  cruelty  and  hardness. 

Whatever  his  crimes  may  have  been,  however,  he 
received  a  punishment  fully  adequate  to  their  greatness, 
when  he,  who  had  ruled  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and,  as  re- 
marked above,  with  a  despotism  that  was  wholly  medi- 
aeval, was  thus  cruelly  stricken  down. 

His  one  comfort  during  these  days  of  terrible  affliction 
came  from  the  presence  near  him  of  his  young  daughter- 
in-law,  to  whom  he  became  deeply  devoted,  and  it  was 
at  his  bedside  that  she  learned  to  be  the  wonderful  nurse 
who,  in  besieged  Gaeta,  a  few  months  later,  tended  with 
fearless  energy  the  unfortunate  soldiers  of  her  husband's 
army,  writhing  under  the  pitiless  lash  of  typhus  and 
cholera,  in  addition  to  their  cruel  wounds. 

To  Francis-Joseph,  too, in  later  years,  when,  discrowned 
and  vanquished,  she  had  forever  left  the  land  where  she 
had  so  bitterly  suffered,  and  when  she  had  joined  the 
ranks  of  those  Rots  en  exile  described  with  more  tal- 

255 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ent  than  mercy  by  Alphonse  Daudet,  she  was  a  true 
and  loyal  counsellor  and  a  tender-hearted  sympathizer. 

For  long  years  the  ex-Queen  of  Naples  lived  in  Paris 
with  her  husband,  who,  poor  fellow,  was  so  imbued 
with  the  belief  that  his  former  subjects  yearned  for  his 
return,  and  would  one  day  call  upon  him  to  resume  his 
crown  and  sceptre,  that  for  a  long  time  he  declined  to 
buy  or  even  lease  a  house,  insisting  upon  living  at  a 
hotel,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  instant  departure  if  sum- 
moned to  reascend  his  throne! 

He  died,  after  more  than  thirty  years  of  exile,  and 
as  he  left  no  issue— his  only  child,  a  little  girl,  having 
died  at  Rome  shortly  after  his  deposition — his  claims 
and  pretensions  have  now  passed  to  his  half-brother, 
Don  Alfonso  de  Bourbon,  Count  of  Caserta,  who  makes 
his  home  at  Nice. 

Humiliated  for  many  years  by  grievous  monetary 
troubles  as  well  as  by  countless  other  irritating  sorrows 
and  disappointments,  the  ex-Queen  was  relieved  of 
financial  worries,  at  least,  by  the  considerable  fortune 
left  to  her  by  her  mother,  Duchess  Ludovica,  in  Ba- 
varia, and,  being  passionately  fond  of  horses,  like  her 
sisters,  Empress  Elizabeth  and  the  Duchess  of  Alen- 
con — who  perished  so  heroically  in  the  Charity  Bazaar 
fire  at  Paris — she  was  at  length  able  to  indulge  this 
taste  to  the  full,  and  became  well  and  flatteringly 
known  on  the  French  turf,  where  her  racing  colors 
were  often  successful,  under  the  pseudonym  of  "Count 
Isola." 

Maria-Sophia  is,  moreover,  the  only  woman  who  has 
ever  received  the  Russian  Order  of  St.  George,  a  dis- 
tinction conferred  only  for  acts  of  altogether  exceptional 
bravery  under  fire,  and  which  Czar  Alexander  II.  sent 
her,  in  recognition  of  the  splendid  part  she  played  in  the 
heroic  defence  of  the  fortress-town  of  Gaeta,  the  last 

256 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

stronghold  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  in  1 860-61,  against 
the  followers  of  Victor-Emmanuel. 

To-day,  in  spite  of  her  sixty-two  years,  she  is  still  a 
very  fascinating  personality.  Her  small,  proud  head  is 
crowned  with  a  wealth  of  slightly  silvered  braids,  her 
form  is  still  erect,  under  the  weight  of  pain  and  sorrow 
that  it  has  borne  for  so  weary  a  period  of  time,  while  a 
great  deal  of  the  grace  and  beauty  of  her  lovely  woman- 
hood remains  with  this  lonely,  dethroned  Queen. 

With  his  brother-in-law,  Prince  Karl  -  Theodore,  in 
Bavaria,  the  great  oculist  and  philanthropist  of  whom 
so  much  has  been  said  and  written,  the  Emperor  has 
always  been  on  the  friendliest  of  terms,  and  he  has,  on 
several  occasions,  made  large  donations  to  the  princely 
Hospice  where  the  poor  receive  such  care  and  kindness 
at  the  hands  of  Karl-Theodore  and  of  his  charming  and 
devoted  wife  —  that  Hospice  where  no  more  mundane 
sound  than  the  ripple  of  the  lake-water  below  is  heard, 
or  that  of  the  little  brooks  dashing  onward  in  the  green 
twilight  of  the  woods,  and  across  meadows  lying  like 
plates  of  emerald  below  great,  dark  belts  of  Alpine  firs, 
drooping  Siberian  pines,  and  eternally  shivering  larches, 
and  which  must,  indeed,  seem  an  earthly  paradise  to 
the  poor  wretches  who  recover  hope,  health,  and  sight 
at  the  same  time  in  this  pure,  wholesome,  beneficent 
atmosphere. 

My  great  regret  is  that  I  cannot,  alas,  devote  the 
necessary  space  to  a  separate  sketch,  even  of  a  very 
succinct  kind,  concerning  the  most  important  members 
of  the  House  of  Habsburg,  or  of  the  various  tribulations, 
joys,  or  difficulties  which  they  contributed  in  turn  to 
Francis-Joseph's  long  and  arduous  existence.  Suffice  it, 
therefore,  for  me  to  specially  mention  two  members  of  the 
Imperial  Family,  two  loyal  subjects  of  his  most  Catholic 
Majesty,  Emperor  Francis-Joseph  of  Austria,  who,  during 
17  257 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  course  of  those  many  long  years,  caused  him  naught 
but  happiness — namely,  his  old  father,  and  Archduke 
Rainer,  his  favorite  cousin. 

Dear  old  Archduke  Franz-Karl!  It  is  not  so  many 
years  ago  that  his  carriage,  drawn  by  six  gorgeously 
caparisoned  Spanish  mules,  still  aroused  the  delight  of 
all  children,  aristocratic  or  plebeian,  who  saw  it  pass  at 
a  quick  trot  along  the  road  to  Schonbrunn,  accompanied 
by  the  shrilly  sweet  music  of  its  silver-belled  harnesses ! 

Endowed  with  a  temperament  so  felicitous  that  it  en- 
abled him  to  find  innocent  pleasure  and  enjoyment  every- 
where, he  delighted  in  doing  kindnesses  to  everybody; 
and  to  see  him  gayly  trotting  up  and  down  under  the 
shadow  of  the  trees  in  any  of  the  Imperial  parks,  lean- 
ing on  his  gold-headed  cane,  and  smiling  on  all  the  world 
with  his  serene,  blue  eyes,  was,  indeed,  a  sight  to  drive 
away  dark  thoughts  and  depression  from  one's  mind. 

His  passionate  attachment  to  his  son  was  not  the  least 
touching  of  his  many  winsome  traits  of  character,  for 
this  attachment  was  never  marred  by  the  very  faintest 
taint  of  jealousy.  Indeed,  he  always  took  particular  care 
to  remind  him,  with  a  merry  chuckle,  that  he,  Archduke 
Franz-Karl,  was  the  very  first  and  foremost,  as  well  as 
the  most  obedient  and  devoted,  of  his  subjects.  And  in 
saying  this  he  was  perfectly  serious  beneath  his  jesting 
manner,  for  he  was  monarchical  to  the  very  backbone, 
believed  absolutely  and  blindly  in  the  Divine  Right  of 
Rulers,  and  was  as  strong  a  Royalist  as  ever  breathed. 
God  bless  his  kindly  memory! 

During  the  last  years  of  his  life,  he  spent  a  portion  of 
every  summer  at  Ischl  and  Gmiinden,  those  two  prim 
and  poetical,  picturesque  and  gay  little  Upper- Austrian 
towns,  which  are  the  ideal  of  what  such  pleasure  resorts 
should  be  and  so  rarely  are. 

Gmiinden  is  within  easy  reach  of  Ischl,  and  is  the  love- 

258 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

liest  little  Ville  d'eau  imaginable,  mirroring,  as  it  does, 
its  many  beautiful  villas  and  palaces  in  the  deep,  green 
waters  of  the  celebrated  Gmundner,  or  rather  Traun-See, 
to  give  it  its  geographical  name. 

In  the  late  seventies,  the  flower  cor  so  was  instituted 
there,  and  this  turned  coquettish  Gmunden  every  year 
into  a  veritable  fairy  city  for  a  whole  summer  week  at  a 
time,  and  shook  it  completely  from  its  shadowy,  slum- 
bersome  impassibility,  for  Court  and  society  alike  took 
an  active  part  in  these  fetes,  and  no  one  more  actively 
than  the  old  Archduke. 

It  would  be  an  almost  impossible  task  to  attempt  to 
give  by  means  of  pen  and  ink  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
picture  presented  by  the  luminous  lake  when  crowded 
with  hundreds  of  flower-laden  boats,  skiffs,  and  canoes. 
This  marvellous  sheet  of  water,  in  spite  of  its  generous 
dimensions,  seems  but  a  huge  gem,  surrounded  as  it  is  on 
all  sides  by  towering  mountains,  from  which  waterfalls, 
white  with  perpetual  foam,  rush  to  meet  the  sparkling, 
translucent  surface  below. 

In  the  dim  distance,  the  silvery  gray  of  glaciers  and 
the  aerial  blue  of  crevasses  overhang  sombre  forests, 
which  terminate  on  the  sloping  shore  in  a  tangled  wilder- 
ness of  ferns  and  flowers. 

With  such  a  background  it  is  hardly  wonderful  that 
these  flower  corsos  should  have  been  one  of  the  most  ex- 
quisite sights  that  one  can  imagine! 

They  always  began  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
and  were  frequently  opened  by  Archduke  Franz-Karl  in 
person.  He  was  the  first  to  assail  all  passing  vessels  with 
fragrant  missiles  taken  from  the  enormous  provisions  of 
daintily  colored  ammunition,  heaped  up  upon  the  prow 
of  his  own  gorgeously  decorated  gondola  —  a  gondola 
which,  by  the  way,  could  have  easily  hauled  aboard  a 
score  of  the  black-painted,  gracefully  shaped  skiffs  which 

259 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

perpetually  glide  hither  and  thither  on  the  peaceful  bos- 
om of  the  Grand  Canal  at  Venice,  and  of  which  he  had 
been  so  fond  of  making  use  when  Austria  still  ruled  in 
Northern  Italy. 

The  last  time  I  had  the  honor  and  pleasure  of  seeing 
the  aged  Archduke  was  just  after  a  great  Court  ceremony 
which,  quite  against  his  usual  custom,  he  had  attended, 
the  Emperor  having  expressed  a  regret  that  his  august 
father  should  so  obstinately  shun  all  state  occasions. 

As  I  have  often  remarked,  no  Court  of  Europe  has 
retained  to  such  an  extent  all  the  pomp  and  ceremony 
of  past  and  gone  centuries  as  that  of  Vienna,  and  the 
consequence  is  that  its  functions  always  constitute  a 
very  unique,  picturesque,  and  stately  spectacle. 

The  one  I  am  alluding  to  was  the  official  reception  by 
the  Emperor  of  a  new  Spanish  Ambassador,  and  certain- 
ly was  no  exception  to  the  rule.  The  Ambassador  and 
his  suite  were  fetched  from  the  embassy  in  three  of  the 
Emperor's  state  carriages  by  the  Assistant  Master-of-the- 
Horse,  and  as  that  containing  the  Ambassador  entered 
the  court-yard  of  the  palace,  the  regiment  on  duty  turned 
out  and  rendered  military  honors.  In  the  first  ante- 
chamber the  new  Envoy  was  welcomed  by  the  Grand 
Master-of-the-Ceremonies,  while  in  the  next  room  he 
was  received  by  the  Grand  Chamberlain  and  by  the  Em- 
peror's Aide-de-Camp.  The  Grand  Chamberlain  there- 
upon announced  the  Ambassador  to  the  Emperor,  and 
opened  to  their  full  width  the  folding  doors  leading  into 
the  Imperial  Presence-Chamber — those  doors  which  play 
so  great  a  part  in  diplomatic  and  Court  etiquette,  since 
only  two  out  of  the  four  folds  are  opened  for  an  ordinary 
Minister  Plenipotentiary,  while  for  a  Secretary  of  Em- 
bassy but  one  fold  is  opened  when  the  latter  is  admitted 
to  the  presence  of  the  Emperor. 

After  handing  his  letters  of  credence  to  the  Monarch, 

260 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

with  the  customary  three  profound  bows,  the  Ambassa- 
dor was  permitted  to  present  to  him  the  members  of  his 
suite,  and,  after  about  ten  minutes'  stay,  withdrew,  with 
equal  ceremony. 

As  I  just  said,  it  was  immediately  after  this  pageant 
that  I  encountered  the  old  Archduke,  most  ruefully 
shaking  his  white  head,  and  was  informed  by  him  that 
' '  Franz ' '  was  making  most  arbitrary  use  of  his  sovereign 
powers  in  "commanding"  an  old  hermit  like  himself  to 
be  present  at  such  wearisome  moments. 

I  laughed  heartily,  as  may  be  imagined,  at  which  he 
affected  to  be  greatly  angered,  and,  flourishing  his  gold- 
headed  cane  menacingly  at  me,  exclaimed,  with  an 
irresistible  twinkle  in  his  wonderfully  youthful  eyes, 
"Do  you  know,  Madame,  that  I  have  almost  promised 
in  my  weakness  to  attend  the  Ball-bei-Hoj,  which  takes 
place  this  evening?  It  is  all  very  well  for  a  baby,  like 
you,  to  be  amused  by  such  gayeties,  but  a  venerable 
great-grandfather,  such  as  I  am,  sings  a  very  different 
song!"  and,  pinching  my  ear,  a  trick  which  he  claimed 
to  have  inherited  from  his  "dear  friend"  Napoleon  I., 
he  pirouetted  on  his  heel,  quite  a  la  Louis  -  Quatorze, 
and  left  me,  still  laughing,  to  watch  him  from  a  window 
enter  his  amazing  mule-drawn  equipage  and  drive  off, 
amid  the  cheers  and  delighted  comments  of  the  people 
assembled  to  see  the  procession  of  great  personages  and 
high  dignitaries  leaving  the  Hof-Burg,  and  who  fairly 
adored  him. 

That  night,  the  Empress  being  absent,  her  place  was 
taken  by  Archduchess  Maria-Theresa,  who,  besides  the 
distinction  of  being  the  Sovereign's  sister-in-law,  pos- 
sesses that  of  having  been  burdened  at  her  christening, 
in  defiance  to  the  very  reasonable  wishes  of  her  late 
father,  ex-King  Miguel  of  Portugal,  with  the  rather  com- 
plex and  confusing  cognomens  of  "  Maria-Theresa-de- 

261 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

l'lmmacule'e  -  Conception  -  Ferdinande  -  Eulalie  -  Leopold- 
ine-Adelaide-Isabelle-Charlotte-Michaella-Raphaele  -  Ga- 
brielle  -  Francoise-d'Assise-et-de-Paule  -  Gonzague  -  Inez- 
Sophie-Bartholomde-des-Anges  " — which  is  a  rather  cum- 
bersome array,  especially  if  one  is  in  a  hurry  and  should 
consider  it  necessary  to  describe  her  by  her  full  appella- 
tion! 

Archduchess  Maria-Theresa  (we  will  dispense  with  cer- 
emony and  give  her  just  the  customary  two  names,  out 
of  the  twenty  or  so,  which  are  meant  for  familiar  use!) 
seemed  as  if  she  by  no  means  mourned  the  fact  of  the 
Empress's  absence.  It  is  well  known  that  Maria-The- 
resa enjoyed  nothing  better  than  to  be  temporarily  the 
first  lady  in  the  land,  and  her  smiling  countenance  and 
extremely  gracious  behavior  showed  very  plainly  that 
this  impression  was  correct. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  her  personal  appearance  is 
calculated  to  make  her  just  the  grand,  proud  figure 
which  one  associates  with  the  idea  of  an  Imperatrix,  but 
still,  whenever  a  Ball-bei-Hof  used  to  take  place  with- 
out our  beloved  Kaiserin  occupying  her  post  beside  the 
Emperor,  we  felt  a  blank  which  nothing  could  fill,  and 
our  most  loving  thoughts  turned  to  the  lovely  Sovereign 
whom  we  missed  so  greatly. 

Maria-Theresa  wore  a  magnificent  gown  of  creamy 
satin,  so  thick  and  soft  at  the  same  time  that  it  rip- 
pled about  her  like  blades  of  light.  It  was  entirely 
overlaid  with  antique  lace,  of  remarkable  artistic  value, 
and  was  further  enhanced  by  fine,  pale,  silver  and  crystal 
embroideries,  of  so  delicate  a  design  and  so  exquisite  a 
workmanship  that  they  gave  one  the  impression  of  being 
mere  shimmering  frostings,  due  to  Father  Winter's  deco- 
rative fingers.  Enormous  sapphires  and  row  upon  row 
of  diamonds  completed  this  toilette,  the  gigantic  Court 
mantle  of  which  was  strewn  with  knots  of  orchids  in  the 

262 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

most  ephemeral  of  tints,  intermingled  with  beautiful 
brilliants,  set  dewdrop  fashion.  Above  the  coronal  of 
heavy  braids  with  which  the  Archduchess  always  crown- 
ed her  small,  patrician  head,  in  imitation  of  the  Em- 
press, scintillated  a  triple  circle  of  priceless  sapphires 
and  diamonds,  shaped  like  a  slightly  pointed  arch,  and 
terminated  at  the  topmost  curve  by  a  unique  pearl  of 
such  unusual  lustre  and  size  that  it  is  known  by  every- 
body as  he  joy  an  de  V  Archiduchesse . 

As  always,  the  uniforms  of  the  officers,  Court  officials, 
and  great  Magnates  were  dazzling,  the  Emperor,  who 
wore  that  of  a  cavalry  general,  being  among  the  simplest. 
Margrave  Pallavicini  wore  the  grand  costume  of  a  Knight 
of  Malta,  whereas  Count  Harrach  had  donned  the  pict- 
uresque garb  of  the  Teutonic  Order. 

There  were  many  Hungarian  Nobles,  towering  above 
the  crowd  of  white  shoulders,  and  whose  dark  and  hand- 
some heads  were  wonderfully  set  off  by  the  rich  fur- 
trimmed  velvets  and  gleaming  jewels  of  their  Tracht, 
the  Polish  Seigneurs  also,  covered  with  priceless  jewels 
and  wrapped  in  costly,  shimmering  stuffs,  added  to  the 
semi-barbaric  coup-d'ceil. 

Just  as  we  were  watching  a  crowd  of  lovely  young 
girls  waiting  to  be  presented,  and  who,  according  to 
the  Emperor's  own  saying,  made  one  think  of  a  "flight 
of  snowy  butterflies  about  to  take  wing,"  Archduke 
Franz-Karl  whispered  to  me: 

"My  life  and  joy  no  longer  shine  in  women's  eyes, 
Heaven  be  praised!  else  my  danger  would  be  great  in 
such  a  temple  of  beauty!  Look  at  them,  the  old  and 
the  young,  all  distractingly  lovely!"  and  he  gave  his 
little,  low  chuckle  of  kindly  malice.  "Assuredly  some 
modern  alchemist  must  have  rediscovered  Ninon  de 
l'Enclos'  beauty  potion,  for  even  my  contemporaries 
themselves  have  still  such  lovely  figures,  such  bloom, 

263 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

such  very  brilliant  eyes,  that  we  must  take  it  for  granted 
they  possess  a  secret  to  avoid  old  Father  Time's  tri- 
umphal car  of  Juggernaut." 

"The  expediency  of  our  sex  is  not  to  be  disputed,"  I 
replied,  demurely.  "It  is  a  quality  which  has  reached 
now  the  highest  point  of  cultivation  with  us.  Time  and 
sorrow  and  wear  are  distanced  and  successfully  kept  at 
bay  where  beauty  is  concerned ;  but  men  should  be  satis- 
fied with  the  results,  and  not  pry  into  the  secret  of  the 
means." 

"Miraculous,  no  doubt!"  he  replied  in  the  same  ban- 
tering tone;  "but  why  thus  take  fire  in  defence  of  whit- 
ened sepulchres?  Must  I  gather  from  this  that  your 
sixteen  years,  or  is  it  seventeen — surely,  you  cannot 
already  be  so  aged — are  the  mere  result  of  a  secret  de 
beauteV 

How  well  I  remember  his  delight  at  this  little  joke  of 
his,  and  what  mischievous  joy  he  took  in  teasing  me, 
who,  of  course,  considered  myself  already  most  matronly, 
but  not  quite,  quite  sufficiently  so  as  not  to  still  bitterly 
envy  the  maturer  charm,  caustic  wit,  and  superb  arro- 
gance of  women  twice  and  even  three  times  my  age, 
who  had  so  much  of  the  knowledge  I  then  lacked,  and 
who  often  looked  at  me  with  the  little  smile  of  indul- 
gent but  very  galling  pity  which  the  thorough -paced, 
experienced,  long -broken -to -harness  women  of  the 
world  feel  for  the  still  childish  being  who  is  so  lamen- 
tably deficient  in  the  years  that  have  made  them  what 
they  are  —  namely,  redoubtably  perfect  and  imposing 
grandes  dames. 

In  those  days  queenly  Archduchess  Elizabeth  inspired 
me  with  awed  admiration.  She  was — fortunately  for 
her,  I  thought  then,  but  have  altered  my  opinion  since — 
decidedly  on  the  wrong  side  of  forty,  but,  apart  from 
being  a  most  remarkable  and  sagacious  woman,  extraor- 

264 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

dinarily  clever,  wise,  learned,  and  possessing  a  knowl- 
edge of  statesmanship  seldom  equalled  by  men,  and 
which  her  charming  daughter,  Queen  Maria-Christina  of 
Spain,  in  a  great  measure  inherited,  she  was  still  a  very 
beautiful  woman,  without  the  aid  of  any  secret  de  beaute. 

Very  tall,  with  a  singularly  harmonious  and  reposeful 
bearing,  large,  calm,  proud,  meditative  eyes,  an  exceed- 
ingly fair  skin  and  delicately  chiselled  features,  she  was 
also  what  one  may  term  as  de  bon  conseil ;  and  the  Em- 
peror, who  not  only  was  her  cousin,  but  whom  she  had 
always  dearly  loved,  consulted  her  whenever  he  was  met 
by  a  new  difficulty  or  a  particularly  vexatious  question. 

She  had,  moreover,  the  rather  unique  privilege  of 
being  trebly  an  Austrian  Archduchess  —  which  to  my 
young  judgment  was  a  privilege  indeed  —  for  she  was 
the  daughter  of  Archduke  Joseph  Palatine  of  Hungary, 
had  married  first  Archduke  Ferdinand,  younger  brother 
and  heir  of  the  last  Sovereign-Duke  of  Modena,  and, 
after  some  two  years  of  widowhood,  had  united  herself 
with  Archduke  Charles  -  Ferdinand,  son  of  Archduke 
Charles,  the  famous  cavalry  leader  of  the  Napoleonic 
wars  and  the  hero  of  the  battle  of  Aspern. 

Certainly,  this  treble  Archduchess  was  one  of  the  hand- 
somest women  in  Austria,  and  one  of  the  most  respect- 
ed and  reverenced;  and  to  see  her  as  she  was  that 
night,  in  a  Court  dress  of  dark  blue  velvet,  embroidered 
with  silver  lilies,  and  wearing  a  regal  wealth  of  wonderful 
old  jewels  dating  back  to  the  time  of  Mary  of  Burgundy 
and  of  Empress  Maria-Theresa,  was  in  itself  a  lesson  in 
stately  deportment. 

Archduke   Franz-Karl   admired  her  immensely,   too, 

and  we  both  remained  silent  as  we  watched  her  cross 

the  dazzlingly  illuminated  Redouten-Saal,  leaning  on  the 

arm  of  Archduke  Rainer,  another  magnificent  specimen 

of  Habsburg  nobility,  a  gallant,  courageous,  generous 

265 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

gentleman,  beloved  by  all  who  know  him,  and  whose 
name  has  long  since  become  a  synonym  for  limitless 
kindness  and  grand,  old-fashioned  courtesy. 

Very  tall,  too,  and  very  soldierly -looking  is  Archduke 
Rainer,  and  from  none  does  the  Emperor  sooner  seek 
advice  upon  military  questions  than  from  him.  He 
is  one  of  the  most  erudite  princes  in  Europe,  and 
Austria  is  indebted  to  him  for  the  creation  of  Vienna's 
superb  Museum  of  Art  and  Sciences,  and  for  that  of 
many  similar  institutions  throughout  the  Empire.  In- 
deed, this  devotion  to  science  and  to  art  induced  him 
to  travel  a  great  deal  incognito,  and,  in  spite  of  his 
enormous  wealth,  in  the  simplest  and  most  unostenta- 
tious fashion,  mostly  accompanied  by  his  charming  wife, 
who  is  so  devoted  to  him  that  she  never  feels  happy 
for  a  moment  when  absent  from  his  side. 

Thus  they  visited  Egypt,  Algeria,  Greece,  Spain,  and 
many  other  interesting  lands,  from  which  they  brought 
back  the  enormous  collections  of  priceless  curios  which 
fill  their  gorgeous  palace  at  Vienna. 

Of  course,  such  a  mode  of  travelling  caused  the  Arch- 
ducal  couple  to  meet  with  some  strange  adventures. 
One,  indeed,  in  which  a  young  American  tourist  plays  a 
conspicuous  role,  deserves  to  be  set  down  here,  if  only 
for  the  glimpse  it  affords  of  Archduke  Rainer's  ever- 
present  politesse  de  coeur. 

While  sitting  on  the  veranda  of  a  Swiss  hotel,  a  few 
years  ago,  the  Archduke,  who,  of  course,  was  in  mufti, 
was  suddenly  accosted  by  a  well-dressed  young  man, 
who  was  perusing  a  pile  of  both  English  and  American 
newspapers,  in  the  following  fashion: 

"I  heard  you  speaking  English  yesterday,  and  as  it's 
a  relief  to  me  to  converse  in  a  language  that  I  can 
understand,  I  made  up  my  mind,  when  next  I  had  the 
chance,  to  have  a  chat  with  you." 

266 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

The  Archduke  bowed  courteously,  and  awaited  with 
admirably  concealed  amusement  what  would  follow  this 
singular  entree  en  matiere. 

"My  word,"  continued  the  young  man,  "Europe  is 
disappointing,  isn't  it?  Now,  in  America  we  have  scen- 
ery which  beats  these  snow-mountains  over  there  hollow, 
even  at  sunset,  as  at  present,  when  the  very  waiters  are 
so  proud  of  their  Alpengluh,  as  they  call  it;  to  me  they 
look  like  strawberry  and  vanilla  ice-cream,  heaped  too 
generously,  and  not  very  artistically,  in  a  green,  wooden 
cup.     Don't  you  think  so?" 

'Well,"  replied  the  Archduke,  who  had  but  vaguely 
understood  this  striking  comparison,  "you  see,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  that  I  have  never  visited  America,  and  so 
I  have  to  be  content  with  plain  little  views  like  this  one." 

"Never  been  across  the  pond?  You  don't  say!  But 
you  are  laughing  at  me,  perhaps?  I  can  assure  you  that 
we  have  mountains  and  lakes  and  trees  that  take  the 
shine  completely  out  of  that  sort  of  thing  yonder.  I'm 
going  to  do  Europe  thoroughly,  nevertheless,  now  that  I 
am  here.  From  this  place  I'm  going  over  to  Austria; 
they  say  that  Tyrol  is  fine.  Well,  we'll  see.  I'm  curi- 
ous to  meet  the  bigwigs  in  Vienna;  one  of  my  best  friends 
was  Secretary  of  our  Legation  there,  and  he  told  me  that 
the  aristocracy  and  the  Imperial  Family  are  extremely 
gay." 

This  announcement  was  perhaps  not  of  the  most 
apposite,  and  might,  moreover,  have  set  the  teeth  of 
any  other  Habsburg  Prince  than  Archduke  Rainer  on 
edge,  but  there  was  something  so  pleasing  in  the  frank, 
genial,  unconventional  manners  of  the  young  man  that 
no  offence  was  taken,  even  when  he  quietly  proceeded 
to  confidentially  inform  his  smiling  interlocutor  that  he 
had  heard  the  most  dreadful  reports  with  regard  to  the 
immorality  of  the  Habsburgs,  and  denounced  almost 

2bl 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

every  scion  of  this  Imperial  House,  from  the  Emperor 
downward,  as  being  "blown  black  and  blue  by  nor'- 
westers,"  which,  he  explained,  meant  to  be  quite  lament- 
ably off  color! 

Archduke  Rainer,  who  had  listened  imperturbably, 
continued  blowing  smoke  rings  from  his  Havana  into 
the  pure  Alpine  air,  and  mildly  remarked,  without  dis- 
puting, however,  or  in  any  way  taking  up  the  cudgels 
of  defence,  that  he  had  never  heard  of  these  things  be- 
fore, although  he  himself  was  a  native  of  Vienna,  and 
concluded  this  discreet  speech  by  expressing  a  cordial 
hope  that  his  "Young  friend"  would  not  find  the  pretty 
Austrian  capital  quite  so  bad  as  it  had  been  painted. 
Then,  emerging  with  a  pleasant  smile  from  his  halo  of 
smoke,  he  bowed  again  in  the  friendliest  way,  and  saun- 
tered down  a  path  leading  to  the  lake. 

The  young  man  looked  after  him  slightly  puzzled. 
This  tall,  commanding,  gray-clad,  erect  figure,  this  hand- 
some face,  barred  across  by  an  immense  moustache, 
might  after  all,  perchance,  be  that  of  one  of  the  aristo- 
crats he  had  just  so  thoroughly  "cut  over  the  ears" — to 
use  his  own  graphic  expression.  That  certainly  would 
be  a  pity,  for  he  was  a  splendid  old  chap,  and  the  light- 
hearted  American  lad  would  be  sorry,  indeed,  to  have 
offended  him;  so,  turning  to  a  personage  who  had 
throughout  the  interesting  colloquy  been  sitting  on  the 
unknown's  other  side,  and  whom  he  knew  belonged  to 
the  old  gentleman's  party,  he  exclaimed: 

"Your  friend  seems  a  mighty  nice  fellow,  and  I 
hope  I  haven't  vexed  him.  But,  you  see,  he  didn't 
seem  to  believe  what  everybody  knows,  and  that  is  that 
strangers  who  visit  a  country  find  out  more  in  a  few 
weeks  of  residence  about  its  customs,  its  people,  and 
its  society  than  do  the  natives,  if  they  live  a  hundred 
years.     Now,  you,  I'm  sure,  will  agree  with  me,  ong 

268 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

inteem,  that  the  Viennese  are  all  pretty  gay,  jolly  as 
they  make  'em,  in  fact.  I  can't  dream  for  a  moment 
that  my  diplomatic  friend  tried  to  guy  me,  either,  and  I 
will  back  his  opinion,  through  thick  and  thin,  even  before 
I  go  and  see  for  myself.  It's  your  friend  who  is  misin- 
formed, as  it's  natural  that  he  should  be,  being  a  native. 
I  guess  a  lot  of  what  happens  in  his  little  town  doesn't 
come  to  his  old  ears." 

"That  is  very  possible,"  remarked  the  stranger,  who 
was  no  other  than  the  Archduke's  Aide-de-Camp,  Count 

X ,    wearing    a    plain    tweed    travelling    suit,    "for 

people  in  Austria  are  not  in  the  habit  of  talking  to 
members  of  the  Imperial  Family  as  you,  my  dear  sir, 
have  just  done  to  Archduke  Rainer,  the  Emperor's 
cousin." 

The  young  American  jumped  to  his  feet,  a  look  of 
genuine  concern  overspreading  his  clean-shaven,  boyish 
face. 

"I  am  sorry!"  he  cried.  "I  never  thought  that  this 
quiet,  simple,  genial  old  rooster — I  beg  your  pardon — 
this  nice,  plain,  old  gentleman  was  an  own  cousin  to  a 
throne!  —  a  real,  genuine,  bona-fide,  simon-pure,  hall- 
marked, first-class,  Imperial  prize-trotter!  I'll  go,  this 
instant ,  and  apologize ! ' '  And  before  the  Aide-de-Camp , 
who  was  by  now  laughing  heartily,  could  stop  him,  he 
was  tearing  after  the  unsuspecting  Archduke,  on  con- 
ciliatory thoughts  intent. 

It  would  seem  that  the  apologies  presented  by  him 
to  his  late  victim  were  of  a  pleasing  quality,  however, 

for  shortly  afterwards   Count   X saw,  with  much 

amusement,  the  Austrian  Archduke  and  the  American 
youth  walking  together  up  the  steep  lake  path,  and, 
wonderful  to  relate,  the  arm  of  the  Archduke  was  linked 
affectionately  in  that  of  the  lad,  who  was  explaining  at 
the  top  of  his  voice  that  these  mountain  hotels  were  al- 

269 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

ways  set  on  high,  "like  bugs  on  a  potato  vine,"  and 
that  he  wished  his  companion  would  lean  upon  him  in 
good  earnest,  "for  fair,  you  know,  and  not  as  if  you  were 
young  and  shy." 

Later  on,  greatly  to  the  Aide-de-Camp's  astonish- 
ment, the  Archduke  declared  that  he  must  really  visit 
America  some  day,  for  a  very  interesting  country  it 
must  be;  and  as  to  that  young  man,  well,  he  was  ex- 
tremely refreshing  and  novel,  and  a  nice,  good-hearted 
boy,  who  changed  one  very  pleasingly  from  the  ordinary 
"routine,"  etc.,  but  what  he  meant  when  talking  about 
"big  bow-wow  folk,"  he,  the  Archduke,  could  not  under- 
stand, and  would  Count  X kindly  ask  him,  if  he  saw 

him  again,  for  it  was  sure  to  be  something  amusing  and 
out  of  the  common. 

Another  member  of  the  Imperial  family  who  always 
had  a  decided  foible  for  America  was  Empress  Elizabeth 
herself. 

A  few  years  before  her  tragic  death,  a  friend,  who, 
thanks  to  great  reverses  of  fortune  and  other  adverse 
circumstances,  was  living  in  the  United  States,  received 
from  her  a  letter,  from  which  is  taken  the  following  ex- 
tract : 

"The  free,  unhampered  life  of  America  must  have  its  charms. 
I  wonder  if  it  will  make  you  forget  that  you  ever  lived  another 
existence.  Yours  is  now,  as  I  understand  it,  wholly  unlike  in 
climate,  scenery,  and  customs,  anything  we  know  on  our  side  of 
the  sea,  even  when  we  do  not  confine  ourselves  to  our  own  land, 
but  travel  greatly.  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  very  ignorant  of  all 
that  concerns  the  United  States;  but  this  ignorance  is  certainly 
equalled  by  my  curiosity,  and  I  would  like  nothing  better  than 
to  come  and  stay  with  you  for  a  little  while.  Perchance  I  shall  do 
so  some  day.  With  the  yacht  it  would  not  be  so  difficult;  they 
in  Vienna  would  all  believe  that  I  am  cruising  in  Norway  or  Ice- 
land, where  I  have  always  also  wished  to  go.  Tell  me  if  the 
close- woven  forests,  the  dense  fields  of  reeds,  and  the  immense 
lakes,  bordered  with  huge  pink-and-golden  lilies,  I  have  read 

270 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

about,  are  really  as  they  are  described?  I  can  hardly  bring 
myself  to  believe  that  even  in  South  America  there  still  exist 
those  superb  virgin  forests,  the  silence  of  which  is  never  dis- 
turbed save  by  the  cry  of  a  wild  bird  or  the  rustle  of  an  uncoil- 
ing snake;  so  do  not  think  me  very  silly  if  I  ask  you  whether 
there  remain  in  North  America  to-day  roving,  dangerous  tribes 
of  Indians,  or  if  all  those  stories  are  exaggerations?  I  read, 
.some  time  ago,  a  book  about  American  Western  life,  which  made 
me  eager  indeed  to  go  and  see  with  my  own  eyes  those  great 
ranches — horse-breeding  farms,  are  they  not? — those  herds  of 
untamed  cattle,  those  picturesque  cow-boys,  who  must  be  some- 
thing like  our  own  Magyar  Czikos,  although  of  a  far  better  class, 
in  spite  of  their  rough-and-ready  ways  and  their  delightful  quick- 
ness with  their  revolvers,  for  here,  as  you  surely  remember,  the 
Czikos  is  an  ignorant  peasant,  whereas  your  cow-boys  are  often 
gentlemen.  Ilyen  ember  ilt  nem  talaet  ott!  I  would  like  very, 
very  much  to  come  over,  and  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  will  not 
do  so.  There  must  be  some  spot  on  the  coast  where  I  could 
land  unobserved,  and  then  travel  on  to  New  York  in  strictest 
incognito,  with  but  one  or  two  attendants.  How  happy  it 
would  make  me  to  see  you  again,  ray  dearest  one,  and  none 
would  need  to  be  the  wiser,  for  I  would  stand  quite  aloof  and 
look  on  merely,  in  order  to  see  how  that  energetic  young  coun- 
try gets  on,  'and  all  submitted  to  a  people's  will,'  as  Ten- 
nyson wrote  about  something  vastly  different,  of  course;  but 
the  line  fits!  Then  you  would  come  with  me  on  the  yacht, 
and  we  would  sail  about,  and  go  as  far  as  Florida  to  see  the 
gray  beards  on  the  cypresses  that  you  mentioned  to  me.  I 
am  sure  I  would  like  it  over  there,  especially  in  the  country 
where  there  are  such  magnificent  horses — Kentucky,  is  it  not? 
It  is  all  very  well  to  cling  to  monarchical  principles  in  Europe, 
although  of  late  years  in  England,  in  France,  and  elsewhere  too, 
the  aristocracy — an  aristocracy  no  longer  in  our  sense  of  the 
word — is  largely  intermixed  with  enriched  tradesmen,  titled 
Hebrews,  and  gilded  Bourgeois;  but  in  great,  big  America  it  is 
quite  different,  naturally,  and  their  politics  seem  to  be  a  matter 
of  real,  all-important,  and  individual  conviction  to  them,  not  a 
mere  mechanical  repetition  of  what  has  been  droned  into  their 
ears  for  centuries.  But  enough  of  all  this  for  the  present. 
Write  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  my  project.  Not  for 
worlds,  of  course,  would  I  try  to  persuade  you  and  have  you  re- 
pent afterwards." 

271 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

The  consternation  of  the  recipient  of  that  letter  may 
be  better  imagined  than  described.  To  have  the  Em- 
press arrive  thus  secretly  in  America,  and  take  up  even 
temporary  quarters  in  a  small  New  York  house  "up- 
town," within  a  stone's-throw  of  cable  cars  and  other 
exasperating  modern  conveniences  —  she  who  never 
allowed  even  gas  or  electric  lights  to  disfigure  any  of 
her  palaces,  who,  simple  as  were  her  tastes,  could  not 
bear  anything  that  was  not  absolutely  artistic — not  to 
mention  the  responsibility  entailed  by  such  a  visit. 

The  thought  was  appalling,  and  so  the  wretched  re- 
cipient crushed  down  her  own  wishes,  her  tenderness, 
and  her  longings  for  a  peep  at  the  one  feminine  friend 
she  had  ever  had  and  loved,  and  did  all  in  her  power  to 
prevent  this  project — which  might  so  easily  have  caused 
grave  complications — from  being  put  to  execution. 

Life's  problems  are  sometimes  a  little  hard,  a  little 
cruel  for  those  who  are  torn  between  reason  and  inclina- 
tion, and  cost  many  bitter  tears  whichever  way  they 
are  solved. 

One  hears  once  in  a  while  single  words  and  phrases 
which,  like  the  touch  of  a  disenchanting  wand,  make  the 
whole  structure  of  one's  painfully  acquired,  patiently  ce- 
mented views  and  feelings  crumble  in  a  second  to  a  heap 
of  choking  gray  dust.  That  letter  had  this  effect  upon 
its  recipient.  Before  the  thought  of  what  had  been, 
the  intense  desire  of  ever  so  short  a  return  to  the  sweet 
communion  of  heart  which  had  been  so  brutally  inter- 
rupted, the  somberer  sides  of  her  own  life  were  suddenly 
revealed  to  her.  She  resolutely  shut  her  eyes  to  the 
fact,  but  it  influenced  her  none  the  less,  caught  as  she 
was  in  a  harsh  engrenage,  from  which  there  was  as  yet 
no  escape,  and  for  a  long  time  she  was  conscious  of  a 
feeling  of  mutilation,  of  a  loss  as  painful  as  the  muti- 
lation or  loss  of  a  limb,  and  it  cost  her  many  a  rough 

272 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

battle  with  herself  till  she,  for  the  second  time,  succeed- 
ed in  uprooting  her  miserable  and  deplorable  weakness. 

Alas!  hope  is  like  the  graceful,  iridescent  Nautilus,  all 
sufficient  unto  itself  in  its  delicate  shell,  skimming  over 
the  surface  of  the  sea,  and  fearing  neither  storm  nor 
wreck;  but  often  a  wanton  blow,  an  unexpected  shock 
breaks  the  daintily  tinted  vessel,  and  the  fairy  voyage 
is  at  an  end,  the  little  navigator  sunk,  like  any  less  de- 
liciously  ethereal  creature.  Then  a  new  "ship  of  pearl " 
must  spread  its  scintillating  wings  upon  the  wave-crests 
to  beckon  us  onward  alluringly,  until  that  one  also  has 
met  with  wreck,  and  so  another  and  another,  until  we, 
grown  too  old,  too  listless,  too  weary  to  continue  the  pret- 
ty game,  are  ourselves  ready  to  launch  upon  that  wave, 
the  last  of  all,  which  casts  us  far  away  upon  the  dim 
unknown. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  far  cry  from  this  little  Nautilus  in- 
termezzo, from  the  hopes  and  disappointments  of  a — 
nobody,  to  the  resumption  of  a  great  and  powerful 
Monarch's  life-story,  yet  it  must  be  done.  So,  Festina 
lente,  Pazienza!  we  will  soon  have  ended  that,  too. 

A  man  like  Francis-Joseph,  upon  whom  sorrows  un- 
numbered and  heart-breaking  have  so  thickly  fallen, 
should,  in  order  to  live  his  life  out  without  too  much 
suffering,  too  great  an  agony,  have  possessed  no  real 
feeling,  which  is  very  far,  indeed,  from  being  the  case. 

All  that  daily  ceremony,  that  hourly  etiquette,  that 
ceaseless  being  on  parade,  that  incessant  pretence  of 
being  interested,  charmed,  cordial,  pleased,  which  forms 
the  routine  of  his  days,  all  the  net-work  of  intrigue 
with  which  he  is  surrounded,  does  not  lighten  his  task, 
nor  can  those  who  are  their  own  masters  realize  what 
it  must  be  to  him  to  be  obliged  to  smile  on  persons  whose 
presence  is  undesired,  to  divide  his  attention  with  un- 
impeachable fairness  between  two  score  and  more  of 
18  273 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Archdukes  and  Archduchesses,  of  Princes  and  Prin- 
cesses, whose  little  dissensions,  needs,  wants,  wishes,  or 
grievances  are  laid  before  him  whenever  there  is  the 
slightest  chance  to  do  so;  what  irritation,  perplexity  and 
inexpressible  boredom  must  be  his  when  it  is  demanded 
of  him  that  he  shall  plunge  into  so  many  individual  storms 
and  dissensions,  when  every  passing  day  opens  a  little 
wider  the  gates  of  disillusion  and  of  regret  before  him. 

If  that  were  all!  If  that,  at  least,  were  the  entire  list 
of  his  trials!  But  what  would  become  of  his  huge  and 
turbulent  dominion  if  such  was  the  case  ?  Sixteen  nation- 
alities, more  or  less  alien  and  hostile  to  each  other,  are 
not  amusing  toys,  or  pets  to  be  quieted  with  sugar,  but  a 
many-headed  hydra,  exceeding  ravenous  and  even  blood- 
thirsty, which  cannot  be  led  about  by  chains  of  meadow 
daisies  or  sent  to  sleep  to  the  sound  of  soothing  lullabies. 
Indeed,  the  hopelessness  of  ever  completely  reconciling 
them  seems  great,  and  there  is  but  one  man  who  has  ever 
bridled  this  cruel  and  ungrateful  monster  —  namely, 
Francis- Joseph,  who  truly  is  "the  Keystone  of  his  Em- 
pire." 

And  in  all  those  years  which  have  lumbered  so 
heavily  upon  the  oft-blocked  lines  which  this  plucky 
engineer  had  to  follow,  never  has  his  hand  faltered  in  its 
safe,  firm  guidance,  never  has  he  allowed  the  great  Car 
of  State  to  derail,  never  have  his  manifold  personal  sor- 
rows been  permitted  to  make  him  pause  even  for  an  in- 
stant. 

When,  in  the  spring  of  1872,  Archduchess  Sophia  was 
stricken  down  by  a  fatal  attack  of  pulmonary  conges- 
tion, he  remained  with  her  day  and  night  during  the  brief 
course  of  her  malady,  and  when  her  proud  eyes  were 
closed  forever  he  stood  looking  down  upon  the  white, 
serene  face  with  the  dulled,  paralyzed  stupor  of  despair. 
He  thought  of  how  boundlessly  she  had  loved  him,  of 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

how  she  had  cleaved  to  him,  suffered  for  him,  fought 
for  him,  this  strong,  clever,  masterful  mother,  now 
lying  senseless  to  all  sound,  even  to  his  beloved  voice, 
powerless  to  lift  her  hand  in  tender  greeting  even  to 
him;  a  thing  now  to  be  thrust  away  out  of  remem- 
brance of  all  those  who  had  known  her,  all  those  who 
had  trembled  before  her,  into  the  dark,  merciless  silence 
of  the  grave. 

An  anguish  such  as  falls  upon  men  in  their  own  death 
struggle  fell  upon  him  then,  and  smote  him  upon  his 
knees,  his  head  bowed,  his  arms  stretched  out,  his  broad 
chest  rising  and  falling  as  though  heaving  and  struggling 
against  the  torture  of  iron  bands;  and  with  deep,  gasping 
sobs  he  sank  forward,  calling  to  her  passionately  to  awake 
and  return  to  him. 

When  he  came  forth  from  that  chamber  of  death,  those 
who  saw  him  averted  their  faces  from  that  look  on  his, 
from  that  unnatural  light  that  shone  in  his  eyes. 

The  Empress  often  told  me  how,  at  that  moment,  she 
thought  she  would  have  willingly  given  all  she  had  to 
resuscitate  her  bitter  enemy,  so  that  he,  her  husband, 
might  again  be  happy ;  and  how,  with  that  strange  blend- 
ing of  fitness  and  incongruity  which  so  often  assails  one 
at  such  hours,  the  old  words  of  the  "  Romaunt  de  Dugues- 
clin"  involuntarily  rose  to  her  mind: 

"  N'a  filairesse  en  France  qui  sache  fil  filer. 
Quiy  me  gagnait   aincois   ma  finance   a  filer !" 

For  was  there  a  woman,  young  or  old,  who  could 
hesitate  to  give  her  all  to  gain  him  ransom  from  so 
overpowering  an  agony?  She,  at  least,  could  not  be- 
lieve it. 

That  look  of  hopeless  desolation,  some  of  those  who 
saw  it  then  were  destined  to  see  it  again,  increasing  in 

275 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

bitterness  of  suffering,  as  first  his  beloved  old  father, 
and  then  his  handsome,  strong,  stalwart  son,  the  pride 
of  his  heart  and  of  his  House,  lay  dead  before  him. 

But  when  the  final  and  most  fearsome  blow  of  all 
stunned  and  crushed  this  unfortunate  man,  when  the 
lifeless  form  of  his  beautiful  wife  was  brought  back  to 
him  in  its  ethereal  and  solemn  lace-shrouded  loveliness, 
her  glorious  eyes  closed  as  though  in  slumber,  bearing 
no  visible  sign  of  the  assassin's  ignoble  deed,  save  in  the 
waxen  whiteness  of  her  little  crossed  hands  and  of  her 
delicately  curved  lips,  looking  merely  like  a  lily  broken 
by  ruthless  fingers,  the  hideousness  of  this  supreme  loss 
seemed  to  arise  embodied  before  him  and  to  gibe  and 
gibber  in  his  face,  bidding  him  stand  aloof  and  not  gaze 
upon  the  proof  of  the  calamity  which  was  leaving  him 
alone  on  earth,  with  no  companion  save  the  eternal  re- 
membrance of  this  marmorean,  irresponsive,  immovable 
face,  which  he  had  adored  in  all  the  fulness,  the  dazzling 
beauty,  the  glory  of  her  exquisite  womanhood! 

He  staggered  back  and  refused  to  see  it  thus  for  the 
last  time,  and  fled,  wandering  through  the  great,  silent 
palace,  without  rest  or  comfort,  and  followed  in  his  soul- 
rending  solitude  by  one  eternal,  wailing  echo  of  his 
doom:  "Alone!    Alone!" 

There  are  natures  which,  in  their  anguish,  seek  the 
fellowship  of  their  kind;  there  are  others  which  shun  it, 
and  these  are  the  proud,  the  tenacious,  the  unyielding, 
the  great,  and  the  best.  Such  is  Francis-Joseph's,  whose 
entourage  and  family  marvelled  to  see  him  after  each  new 
sorrow  arise,  unaltered  in  manner,  unchanged  in  his  tire- 
less ardor  for  work,  always  the  same  kind,  generous, 
calm,  quiet,  duty -loving  man. 

Pitiful  to  others,  he  abhors  pity  for  himself;  merciful 
to  all  miseries,  he  asks  none  for  his  own,  and  keeping 
back  his  unconquerable  pain  until  none  are  by  to  stand 

276 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

between  him  and  its  unfathomable  depths,  which  grow 
deeper  every  day  that  dawns,  with  every  passing  hour — 
watching  him  when  he  sleeps,  so  that  his  sleep  is  short 
and  disturbed,  and  while  he  wakes,  so  that  his  days  are 
joyless  —  he  gives  no  outward  sign  of  the  ever-present 
distress  and  loneliness  that  racks  and  haunts  him,orof 
the  barbed  steel  sunk  forever  in  his  warm,  tender  heart. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Alone,  indeed,  and  in  the  saddest  sense  of  the  word, 
is  Emperor  Francis-Joseph  now,  condemned  to  a  per- 
petual mental  and  heart  isolation,  by  a  fate  so  grim, 
so  relentless  that  it  has  taken  his  life  like  a  beautiful 
fruit  and  has  pressed  it  dry  to  the  core  of  all  joy,  all 
hope,  all  gladness,  all  human  happiness,  and  all  reward 
for  the  great  deeds  he  has  accomplished,  the  great  good 
he  has  done;  a  fate  which  has  been,  of  a  truth,  more 
cruel  than  death  itself. 

Alone  in  his  magnificent  palaces  he  often  sits,  heart- 
sick and  weary  of  that  life  from  whence  all  that  made  it 
worth  the  living  has  disappeared,  a  life  that  is  forever 
overshadowed  by  a  grief  so  immense  that  it  conceals 
from  him  the  very  light  of  heaven. 

Yet  the  sense  of  his  rank  and  his  habitual  reserve  keep 
him  mute  always  about  his  sufferings,  and  he  toils  on, 
smiles  on,  masks  his  anguish  with  a  strength,  a  calm,  and 
a  kindness  seemingly  as  shadowless  as  of  yore,  and  which 
will  enable  him  to  remain  to  the  end  the  one  tie  uniting 
the  Austro-Hungarian  people,  whose  loyalty  and  affection 
are  accorded,  not  to  the  House  of  Habsburg,  but  solely 
and  exclusively  to  the  person  of  the  present  Sovereign. 

Alas !  I  hope  and  trust  that  we  may  not  live  to  see  that 
day  when,  this  one  remaining  bond  of  union  being  re- 
moved, the  Empire  which  he  has  built  up  and  of  which 
he  is  so  proud  will  fall  and  crumble  pitifully  asunder, 
burying  in  the  cataclysm  the  mock  friendliness  of  those 
sixteen  alien  races,  the  union  of  which,  when  once  he  is 

278 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

no  longer  there  to  hold  them  close  together  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand,  will,  it  is  feared,  cease  to  exist. 

Volumes  could  be  written  illustrating  the  extraordi- 
nary fashion  in  which  this  patriarchal  Monarch  has  con- 
stantly remained  in  touch  with  the  lowliest  as  well  as 
with  the  highest  of  his  subjects>  and  of  the  degree  in 
which  he  has  shown  himself  to  be  the  real  father  of  his 
people. 

He  makes  a  point  of  conversing  with  them  in  each  of 
their  languages  or  dialects,  changing  from  German  to 
Hungarian,  from  Italian  to  Croatian,  from  Polish  to 
Czech,  and  from  Bosniac  to  Slovak  or  Roumanian,  with 
absolutely  effortless  facility. 

He  travels  a  great  deal,  too,  visiting  first  one  and  then 
another  of  his  provincial  capitals,  one  day  sojourning  in 
verdure-encircled  Prague,  the  illuminations  in  honor  of 
his  presence  mirroring  their  red,  blue,  and  green  sparks 
in  the  broad  waters  of  the  Moldau,  and  outlining  the 
tall,  gilt  cross  of  the  Teyn  Church  and  the  mosque-like 
spires  of  the  thousand  towers,  which  make  the  old  city 
look  so  fairy-like  at  night;  another  time  appearing 
upon  the  esplanade  at  Abbazzia,  fragrant  with  the  pene- 
trating odors  of  orange  and  myrtle,  where  the  blue 
waves  of  the  Adriatic  beat  a  lulling  measure  below  the 
splendid  villas  and  hotels  of  our  Austrian  Nice.  Again, 
disembarking  from  his  yacht  at  the  Francis-Joseph  Quai, 
as  the  stars  begin  to  twinkle  above  the  Blocksberg,  he 
shares  his  favors  between  the  beautiful  twin  towns  of 
Buda  and  of  Pesth,  for  his  affection  is  divided  with  strict 
fairness  between  these  cities,  which  raise  their  slender 
minarets  on  both  sides  of  the  glittering,  moonlit  band 
of  molten  silver,  separating  them  by  its  fleet  current; 
or  when  the  rich,  golden,  Hungarian  autumn,  with  the 
glow  of  its  burning  sunsets,  turns  the  purple  and  yel- 
low  grapes   of   the    far  -  stretching   vineyards    into   so 

279 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

many  gleaming  jewels,  the  Imperial  yacht  descends  the 
Danube  as  far  as  Peterwardein,  between  steep,  rocky 
cliffs  rising  sheer  from  the  fast-running  wavelets  of  the 
sapphire-hued  river,  or  skirts  low,  marshy  grounds  cov- 
ered with  pale,  shivering  willows  like  those  so  dear  to 
Corot,  and  intersected  by  multitudinous  streamlets  flow- 
ing from  the  flat  fields  that  bear  the  flax  and  grain  which 
make  the  riches  of  those  regions. 

The  Emperor  orders  the  anchor  to  be  cast  before  tiny 
townships,  or  large  villages  nestling  between  hills  or  in 
leafy  dells,  so  that  he  may  praise  the  vine-growers  and 
watch  the  over-ripened  fruit  as  it  is  carried  to  the 
presses  by  laughing  girls  and  boys  wearing  the  bright, 
picturesque  Magyar  costume. 

In  the  autumn,  too,  as  in  the  late  spring,  this  inde- 
fatigable Ruler  hurries  off  to  the  great  military  manoeu- 
vres, now  in  Galicia,  now  in  Moravia,  Hungary,  Bohemia, 
or  any  other  spot  previously  agreed  upon,  and  from  the 
minute  of  his  arrival  the  adoration  he  inspires  to  his 
troops,  and  which  binds  closely  together  with  a  frank, 
brotherly  fellowship  the  soldiers  of  each  battalion,  each 
squadron,  each  battery,  becomes  at  once  apparent. 

If  a  mere  private  wants  anything,  he  knows  that  the 
Emperor  will  do  for  him  what  a  father  would  do  for  a 
favorite  child;  he  knows  also  that  his  keen  eyes  per- 
ceive at  a  glance  of  what  mettle  he,  this  humble  unit 
in  a  colossal  organization,  is  made,  even  be  he  but  just 
fresh  from  the  hand  of  the  instructor. 

Francis-Joseph  loves  his  soldiers  with  a  great,  silent 
love,  which  is  fast-rooted  in  the  granite  of  his  nature, 
and  his  attitude  towards  them  is  that  of  a  grave  courtesy, 
a  preference  for  the  fewest  words  and  least  demonstra- 
tion possible,  a  marked  opinion  that  silence  is  golden 
and  speech  only  silver-plated  metal,  save  when  weighted 
by  heroic  action,  which  attitude,  taken  in  unison  with  the 

280 


A   KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

passion  du  metier,  the  dauntless  pluck,  the  emotionless 
calm,  and  the  limitless  power  of  suppressing  all  impa- 
tience, injustice,  or  arbitrariness  of  which  Francis-Joseph 
has  given  so  many  proofs,  abundantly  explains  why  his 
very  name  is  worshipped  by  all  those  who  wear  his  uni- 
form, from  the  Feldzeugmeister,  in  his  gorgeous,  fur- 
trimmed,  gold-laced  crimson  and  white,  and  his  brilliant, 
green-plumed  headgear,  to  the  sober  gray  of  the  private 
of  chasseurs,  or  the  yet  duller,  plainer,  brown  and  dark 
blue  of  the  Honved. 

Latin  or  Teuton,  Magyar  or  Czech,  were  always  and 
are  ever  very  much  the  same  to  the  Emperor  when  the 
ring  of  the  bugle  is  in  his  ear  and  the  glitter  of  the  sun 
is  upon  the  line  of  steel  fringing  regiment  after  regiment 
as  they  form  up  for  a  grand  parade  on  the  Schmelz  or 
for  a  life-and-death  struggle  in  the  field,  so  long  as  all 
hearts  beat  alike  with  hope  of  pre-eminence,  success,  and 
victory.  With  equal  pride  he  glances  at  the  superb  sweep 
of  his  Polish  Uhlans,  his  Hungarian  Hussars,  or  his  Bo- 
hemian Dragoons  wheeling  to  the  attack,  and  although 
he  is  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  can  be  stern  and  unbend- 
ding  when  reproof  is  necessary,  yet  his  mercy  is  never 
vainly  appealed  to  when  the  iron  wall  of  military  law 
offers  a  loop-hole  of  which  he  can  avail  himself  to  remit 
a  punishment  or  avoid  harsh  censure. 

A  little  while  since,  during  the  manoeuvres  in  Hungary, 
after  a  hot  and  fatiguing  day  in  the  saddle,  the  Emperor 
was  crossing  a  stone-flagged  yard  leading  to  his  tempo- 
rary quarters,  unaccompanied  even  by  an  orderly,  when 
suddenly  a  soft,  shy  touch  upon  his  arm  made  him  turn 
in  surprise,  to  be  confronted  by  a  queer  little  barefooted 
form,  very  ragged,  and  surmounted  by  a  curly  head  which 
barely  reached  up  to  the  Imperial  elbow. 

The  Monarch  smiled,  and  said,  gently,  with  a  reassur- 
ing smile,  for  he  dearly  loves  children,  even  when  they 

281 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

have  little,  grimy,  sunburned  faces  and  look  the  very 
reverse  of  prosperous: 

"Well,  my  little  man,  and  what  do  you  want  of  me?" 
There  was  an  infinite  pity  in  his  eyes  as  he  bent  over  the 
child. 

The  boy  gave  a  long  sigh,  looking  pathetically  up  at 
him,  with  lips  parted,  and  two  large  tears  gathering  in 
his  frightened  blue  eyes: 

"I  came — I  came — please  don't  be  angry — I  came  to 
bring  this;  do  take  it,  please;  please  do!"  and  flushing  to 
a  glowing  pink,  the  poor  little  fellow  held  out  tremblingly 
a  roll  of  cparse  paper,  upon  which  something  was  written 
in  a  sadly  untutored  hand. 

The  Emperor  gazed  at  this  strange  petitioner  in  a 
silence  which  the  boy  mistook  for  offence,  and,  pale  now 
with  excitement,  he  leaned  nearer,  with  passionate,  apol- 
ogetic entreaty: 

"Don't  be  angry!"  he  repeated,  a  rising  sob  making 
his  voice  tremble;  "please  take  it!" 

The  aged  Sovereign,  in  silence  still,  stooped  lower,  and 
possessing  himself  with  one  hand  of  the  uninviting  docu- 
ment, drew  the  shaking  little  lad  to  him  with  the  other. 
When  he  spoke  his  own  voice  was  unsteady: 
'Who  sent  you  to  me?"  he  asked,  softly. 

"Mother;  we  are  very  poor."  The  child  was  trying 
his  best  not  to  cry,  but  the  tears  brimmed  over  now  and 
fell  on  his  thin,  tanned  cheeks.  "We  have  nothing — 
nothing,  so  we  must  die  of  hunger,  mother  and  I  and 
my  baby  sister!"  he  concluded,  while  one  little  bare  foot 
traced  nervously  a  zigzag  arabesque  on  the  dusty  pave- 
ment. 

The  hand  of  his  august  interlocutor  wandered  gently 
over  the  tangled  curls  as  he  rapidly  attempted  to  deci- 
pher the  piteous  hieroglyphics  of  the  blurred,  scrawled, 
miserable  petition,  the  words  erased  with  passionate  up- 

282 


t  m 


MT""         I 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

and-down  strokes,  blotted  with  hot  tears  and  scored  out 
in  impulsive  misery. 

The  boy  was  watching,  startled  and  awed,  and  as  they 
stood  there  together  the  contrast  between  the  white- 
haired  Emperor,  in  his  bright -hued  uniform,  and  the  little 
petitioner, in  his  loose, torn  shirt  and  sorely  patched  trou- 
sers, barelegged,  barefooted,  bareheaded,  the  mighty 
Ruler  of  millions  of  men  and  the  hungry  child  of  the 
poor,  was  striking  and  startling  enough  not  to  be  easily 
forgotten  by  the  two  aides-de-camp  who,  unseen,  had 
stopped  under  the  dusky  porch  of  the  yard. 

"  I  am  not  angry,  my  little  one;  don't  cry,"  murmured 
the  Emperor,  and  as  he  spoke  he  stooped  again  and 
brushed  the  tear-stained,  imploring  face  turned  upward 
to  him  with  his  mustached  lip.  "I  will  see  that  your 
mother,  your  little  sister,  and  yourself  are  provided  for, 
and  when  you  grow  up  to  be  a  man  you  will  be  one  of 
my  best  soldiers,  for  you  are  a  brave  little  fellow!" 

The  boy  had  listened  with  the  color  coming  and  going, 
fleeting  and  burning,  from  the  wavy  fringe  of  his  yellow 
hair  to  his  thin,  brown  neck,  his  narrow  forehead  crossed 
by  wrinkles  of  perplexity. 

"Have  you  a  father?"  asked  the  Emperor. 

"Yes,  Majesty!" 

"And  where  is  your  father?" 

"  I — I  do  not  know!"  The  boy  looked  away,  hanging 
his  head  and  working  the  toes  of  his  little  bare  feet  yet 
more  nervously  in  the  dust. 

"Has  he  left  your  mother?"  the  Emperor  questioned, 
drawing  his  own  conclusions. 

'Yes,  Majesty,  he — he  has  left  us  a  long  time  ago,"  he 

owned,  in  a  dull  voice,  keeping  his  tear-filled  eyes  averted. 

'Poor  little  fellow!     Tell  your  mother  that  she  need 

have  no  more  fears,  that  I  promise  to  send  her  all  she 

needs.     Will  you  remember  what  I  say?" 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

"Oh  yes,  yes,  Majesty!"  the  child  cried,  with  the  joy- 
ful precipitancy  of  intense  relief;  then  with  quite  discon- 
certing violence  the  pitiful  little  waif  seized  his  patron's 
white-gloved  hand,  kissed  it  passionately,  and,  like  a  wild 
creature  terrified  by  his  own  rashness,  fled,  leaving  the 
Emperor  to  look  after  his  small,  swiftly  running  form 
with  suddenly  dimmed  eyes. 

Francis-Joseph  knows  how  to  talk  to  the  poor,  which 
is  an  art  possessed  only  by  the  most  delicate  and  sensi- 
tive hearts,  and  his  manner  towards  them  is  so  paternal, 
simple,  and  encouraging  that  all  shyness  or  alarm  flies 
before  it^ 

To  one  and  all  of  his  less-fortunate  subjects  he  lends 
a  kindly  and  attentive  ear,  and  never  permits  himself 
to  show  the  least  sign  of  weariness,  however  trivial  and 
uninteresting  the  troubles  confided  to  him  may  be — 
another  talent  of  more  value  to  the  great  than  one  might 
suppose. 

When,  however,  this  wonderful  patience  of  his  is  men- 
tioned within  his  hearing,  he  laughs,  and  contents  him- 
self with  saying:  "It  is  the  moral  badge  of  all  our 
tribe,"  which  is  not  strictly  true,  since  there  are  numer- 
ous princes  who  cannot  boast  even  a  hundredth  part  of 
his  perfection  in  an  art  of  which  he  is  past -master. 

Many  a  time,  on  his  private  errands  of  mercy,  which 
few  know  of,  he  has  been,  like  Archduke  Rainer  at  the 
Swiss  Hotel,  mistaken  for  a  vastly  smaller  personage — 
a  pardonable  error,  after  all,  for  do  puissant  and  mighty 
Sovereigns  (in  the  usual  notion  of  them)  go  about  at- 
tended by  no  retinue,  dispensing  their  own  charities  in 
a  most  un-Imperial  and  unassuming  guise?  Indeed,  one 
must  be  deeply  versed  in  ways  Francis-Josephian  to  rec- 
ognize him  on  such  occasions.     C'est  le  cas  de  le  dire! 

To  see  him  familiarly  seated  in  a  mountaineer's  or  vil- 
lager's kitchen,  for  instance,  quite  at  his  ease,  sunnily 

284 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

genial,  displaying  the  most  sincere  interest  in  the  chil- 
dren, the  cattle,  the  old,  palsied  granny  huddled  in  the 
corner  of  the  hearth,  or  her  aged  mate,  who,  gnarled 
like  a  venerable  oak,  has  served,  many,  many  years  be- 
fore, in  his  Emperor's  army,  perchance  fought  at  his  side, 
is  unspeakably  delightful.  There  are,  moreover,  notes 
of  peculiar  richness  in  his  voice  when  he  speaks  to  such 
people. 

One  can  scarcely  be  a  good  monarchist  unless  one  has 
seen  and  heard  him  under  such  circumstances;  but  if 
this  opportunity  is  accorded,  the  most  obdurate  of  radi- 
cals are  bound  to  become  ardent  partisans  of  monarchy, 
almost  without  being  aware  of  the  fact. 

Francis- Joseph  in  his  palace,  with  a  background  of 
precious  mosaics,  of  mellow  and  superb  frescoes,  of 
gold -wrought  panels,  of  silks  and  satins  enriched  and 
beautified  by  exquisite  embroideries,  of  priceless  bronzes, 
of  marbles,  of  sparkling  Venetian  mirrors,  of  odorous 
flowers,  of  soft,  bright  coloring,  and  all  the  rest  of  his 
superb  state,  is  a  grand  and  now  very  pathetic  figure ; 
but  when  he  is  among  the  humble,  be  it  in  Alpine  cha- 
let or  Moravian  farm-house,  in  village  hut,  or  dark  city 
slum,  this  man,  who  is  certainly  no  saint,  who  has  his 
weaknesses,  his  foibles — his  faults  even,  if  you  will — is 
in  some  ways  a  saintlier  saint  than  many  of  those 
awaiting  official  beatification  beyond  the  realms  of 
azure  which  are  supposed  to  separate  us  from  heaven. 

But  if  there  are  pretty  scenes  to  be  witnessed  when 
the  palace  goes  to  the  cottage,  there  still  are  many  more 
when  the  cottage  goes  to  the  palace — on  the  occasion  of 
the  famous  Thursday  receptions,  which  I  have  elsewhere 
described,1  when  any  of  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty's  sub- 
jects, who  presents  him  or  herself,  has  the  opportunity 

1  The  Martyrdom  of  an  Empress. 
285 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

of  a  private  audience,  and  the  great  antechamber  pre- 
sents a  microcosm  of  the  Empire,  thronged,  as  it  is,  with 
representatives  of  every  class,  from  the  highest  digni- 
taries of  Church  and  State  to  the  poorest  farmer  and 
artisan. 

It  is  only  to  be  expected  that,  among  the  ignorant,  the 
lowly  and  the  very  poor,  nocking  to  the  presence  of  their 
Sovereign,  quaint  and  pathetic  incidents  should  often 
occur. 

For  instance,  on  one  occasion  an  old  peasant  woman, 
with  an  anxious,  wrinkled  and  troubled  face,  arrayed 
in  the  picturesque  costume  of  her  district,  and  carrying 
a  small,  shawl  -  wrapped  bundle  carefully  in  her  arms, 
as  if  it  had  been  an  infant,  was  admitted  to  the  ante- 
chamber. She  at  once  betook  herself  timidly  into  a  cor- 
ner, being  evidently  extremely  eager  to  avoid  notice ;  but 
suddenly  the  decorous  quiet  was  broken  by  most  ear- 
piercing  shrieks  and  squeals,  apparently  proceeding  from 
the  vicinity  of  this  retiring  and  shy  old  dame.  The  as- 
tonished attendants  immediately  investigated  the  cause 
of  the  disturbance,  and  found  her  struggling  with  a  very 
lively  little  sucking  pig,  profusely  adorned  with  pink 
and  blue  ribbons,  which  had  begun  to  resent  the  con- 
finement of  the  various  envelopes  in  which  it  had  ob- 
tained its  surreptitious  entrance  into  the  most  exclusive 
Court  of  Europe! 

The  poor  woman  tearfully  explained  that  she  had 
come  a  long  way  to  crave  the  pardon  of  her  son,  a  sol- 
dier, who  had  committed  some  offence  against  mili- 
tary discipline,  and  that  she  had  brought  the  piglet — 
the  only  apparently  suitable  possession  she  had — as  a 
propitiatory  offering  for  her  good  Kaiser.  The  indig- 
nant officials  would  have  removed  the  shameless  young 
four-footed  offender,  but  Francis- Joseph,  whose  atten- 
tion had  been  attracted  by  those  strange  and  unusual 

286 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

sounds,  ascertained  their  cause,  and  personally  inter- 
fered in  the  old  lady's  behalf,  so  that  the  pig  not  only 
received  the  honor  of  an  Imperial  audience  and  accept- 
ance, but  the  donor  procured  the  granting  of  her  peti- 
tion, and  soon  went  on  her  way  rejoicing. 

This  reminds  me  that  the  Emperor  is  annually  the  re- 
cipient of  many  a  similar  tribute  in  kind.  Every  year,  for 
example,  on  St.  Martin's  day,  a  delegation,  chosen  from 
among  the  Jewish  population  of  whatever  city  Francis- 
Joseph  may  happen  to  be  residing  in  at  the  time,  pre- 
sents him  with  two  geese,  the  largest  and  finest  procurable, 
securely  bound  and  decorated  with  bows  and  fluttering 
lengths  of  many  -  colored  ribbon.  This  very  ancient 
ceremony  expresses  the  gratitude  of  the  Hebrews  for 
the  protection  afforded  to  their  race  throughout  the 
Empire,  and  we  may  imagine  that  in  the  olden  times 
of  the  "  Judenhetz  "  it  voiced  a  very  heart -felt  gratitude 
indeed.  The  geese,  however,  on  these  occasions,  feel 
themselves  animated  by  no  such  cordial  sentiments; 
quite  otherwise,  in  fact,  for  their  loud  lamentations  and 
vehement  protests  at  having  thus  "greatness  thrust  upon 
them"  is  in  such  startling  discord  with  the  convention- 
alities of  the  Imperial  antechamber  that  the  waiting 
throng  are  only  too  glad  to  yield  them  precedence  and 
to  see  the  last  of  them  as  speedily  as  possible. 

It  is  in  this  accessibility  of  the  Sovereign,  this  oppor- 
tunity for  direct  and  individual  appeal  to  the  highest 
authority,  that  the  primitive  side  of  the  people's  life — 
the  side  farthest  from  such  modernities  as  Reichsraths, 
popular  science,  and  popular  education — finds  expression, 
and  that  the  observer  is  enabled  to  appreciate  the  dual 
nature  of  this  truly  Dual  Empire. 

To  see  Francis-Joseph  thus  engaged  in  righting  lit- 
tle wrongs  and  petty  grievances  that  often,  one  would 
think,  might  have  been  dealt  with  by  some  local  magis- 

287 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

trate,  is  to  be  carried  in  spirit  to  Oriental  countries  or 
back  to  patriarchal  times,  and  to  realize  how  much  he  is 
and  feels  himself  to  be  father  of  his  people — to  become 
convinced  also  of  how  completely  he  is  the  architect  of 
his  Empire  as  it  stands  to  -  day.  This  is,  indeed,  per- 
sonal government,  "as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Haroun-al- 
Raschid,  of  blessed  memory,  whose  times  exist  still," 
and  will  exist  long  after  modern  political  systems  have 
passed  away. 

The  Emperor  accepts  this  paternal  position  with  an 
earnestness  as  touching  as  the  people's  confidence,  and 
many  ape  the  anecdotes  that  could  be  told  in  illustration 
thereof. 

While  shooting  one  day,  quite  unattended,  in  the 
woods  of  one  of  his  Styrian  estates,  he  came  upon  a 
couple  of  poachers,  who  might,  had  they  chosen,  made 
their  escape,  or  even  have  attacked  him,  as  has  so  often 
happened  in  Europe  to  territorial  Magnates  in  lonely 
portions  of  their  forest  preserves,  but,  recognizing  the 
Emperor,  they  fell  on  their  knees  and  humbly  begged  his 
pardon.  Finding  themselves  answered  in  a  kindly  tone, 
the  men  took  heart  to  explain  that  they  were  both  old 
soldiers  who  had  fallen  on  evil  days,  and  that,  having 
many  hungry  mouths  to  feed,  they  had  been  forced 
to  seek  a  maintenance  in  any  fashion  that  came  to 
hand. 

Game  laws  in  Austria  are  very  strict,  and  when  the 
Emperor  had  left  them,  after  taking  down  their  names 
and  addresses,  the  two  poor  wretches  spent  more  than 
one  mauvais  quart  d'heure  of  quaking  apprehension. 
Judge,  therefore,  what  must  have  been  their  astonish- 
ment and  joy  when  they  found  themselves  appointed 
game-keepers  on  the  very  estate  upon  which  they  had 
been  poaching.  Investigation  had  proven  their  stories 
to  be  absolutely  true,  and  so  their  need  found  relief  and 

288 


A    KEYSTONE    OF   EMPIRE 

their  excellent  military  record  its  reward  in  spite  of  the 
grievousness  of  their  offence. 

Another  time,  during  a  drive  to  Schonbrunn,  finding 
a  fire-engine  which,  while  on  the  way  to  a  great  confla- 
gration, had  been  stalled  in  a  mud-hole  broken  out  by 
a  recent  heavy  rain,  far  from  leaving  the  ponderous 
machine  to  be  extricated  by  the  efforts  of  the  fast -gath- 
ering crowd,  the  Emperor  had  the  horses  taken  from  his 
carriage  and  added  to  the  engine's  team,  while  he  him- 
self jumped  into  a  cab  that  chanced  to  pass  and  pro- 
ceeded to  his  destination. 

Pre-eminent  as  Francis-Joseph  is  as  Pater  Patrice,  and 
beloved  as  he  is  by  high  and  low  alike,  he  is  equally 
pre-eminent  as  a  Sovereign,  a  fact  which  makes  the 
"Crown  a  lonely  splendor"  indeed. 

Between  the  Imperial  House  and  those  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, no  matter  how  old,  wealthy,  and  powerful  they 
may  be,  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed,  which  no  intimacy 
or  familiarity  is  allowed  to  bridge.  The  Emperor  is 
always  the  Emperor,  the  father  of  his  Nobles  as  he  is 
of  his  lowest  peasants,  and  there  is  none  even  second  to 
him,  so  that,  while  he  is  simple  and  unaffected  in  his 
manner,  and  without  the  slightest  touch  of  arrogance, 
he  never  mingles  with  them  at  any  time  in  the  social 
sense.  The  German  Kaiser  and  the  English  King  can 
choose  their  associates  from  among  the  Nobility  of  their 
dominions,  but  almost  the  only  intimate  friend  not  of 
his  own  blood  Francis-Joseph  has  ever  had  was  the  late 
King  of  Saxony. 

That  spirit  of  laisser-aller  which  has,  alas,  long  per- 
vaded many  of  the  reigning  Houses  of  Europe,  is  not  at 
all  tolerated  by  Habsburg  tradition ;  and  I  should  be 
tempted  to  describe  the  majesty  of  Francis- Joseph  as 
absolutely  Olympian,  in  that  it  is  so  entirely  above  even 
the  great  aristocracy,  and,  indeed,  in  a  sense,  which  is 
j»  289 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

modified  by  his  great  approachability,  quite  apart  from 
them  also. 

A  story  that  is  told  of  the  Emperor  Joseph  II.  is  an 
excellent  illustration  of  this.  Joseph,  a  most  laborious 
and  conscientious  Monarch,  much  concerned  about  the 
welfare  of  his  people,  presented  to  the  city  of  Vienna, 
for  use  as  a  public  park,  a  tract  of  land  that  had  until 
then  been  part  of  the  royal  demesne.  (It  is  now  that 
queen  of  beautiful  metropolitan  breathing  spaces,  the 
Prater. )  One  of  the  greatest  aristocrats  of  the  Empire 
deprecatingly  suggested  that  the  Emperor  might  per- 
haps ha"^e  been  too  liberal  in  his  munificence,  since  he 
had  gone  far  towards  depriving  himself  of  sufficient  space 
wherein  to  enjoy  the  society  of  his  Peers. 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  Emperor;  "for  if  I  am 
to  enjoy  the  society  of  my  Peers  only,  I  will  have 
to  spend  my  days  in  the  vaults  of  the  Kapuziner 
Kirche.1 

This  explains  why  Francis-Joseph  is  so  very  much 
alone,  excepting  for  the  society  of  his  two  daughters 
and  their  children.  Already  isolated  by  his  position, 
it  has  been  his  misfortune  to  survive  most  of  those 
who  were  of  his  day  and  generation.  Wellnigh  all  the 
statesmen  and  generals  who  served  him  in  council  and 
in  the  field  during  the  first  three  or  four  decades  of  his 
reign,  and  nearly  all  his  contemporaries  who  were  re- 
lated to  him  by  blood,  are  gone,  while  those  men  who 
were  mere  children  when  he  had  already  been  many 
years  on  the  throne  now  fill  the  great  offices  of  the  State 
and  assist  him  in  the  task  of  government. 

Little  has  been  left  him  of  the  happiness  of  life ;  but 
labor  is  the  panacea  for  all  its  ills,  and  he  absorbs  him- 
self in  it,  so  as  to  allow  no  time  for  brooding  thoughts 

1  Where  the  members  of  the  Imperial  Family  are  interred. 

290 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

or,  indeed,  even  for  relaxation  of  any  kind,  excepting 
occasional  shooting  and  hunting  expeditions. 

It  is  difficult  to  give  an  idea  of  the  enormous  quantity 
of  work  he  does  accomplish. 

He  is  obliged  to  be  in  touch  with  two  distinct  parlia- 
ments, the  Hungarian  and  the  Austrian;  he  has  to  con- 
sider and  approve  documents  submitted  to  him  by  two 
cabinets,  comprising  no  less  than  nineteen  ministers,  and 
to  follow  up,  with  each  one  of  them,  the  transactions  of 
their  respective  departments.  He  must  direct  the  ad- 
ministration and  exercise  the  chief  command  of  the  en- 
tire army  of  the  Empire  —  nearly  a  million  of  men — see 
to  the  proper  direction  of  two  complete  Imperial  estab- 
lishments, one  at  Vienna  and  another  at  Pesth,  with 
their  hundreds  of  dignitaries,  officials,  and  retainers  of 
every  grade ;  he  must  watch  with  careful  eye  the  doings 
of  the  various  members  composing  the  numerous  Habs- 
burg  Family — doings  which  very  often  require  close  at- 
tention— nay,  he  even  superintends  the  management  of 
their  private  fortunes  and  properties;  and,  finally,  takes 
the  leading  part  in  all  ceremonies  and  State  functions, 
not  of  one  Court  but  of  two. 

Rising  at  daybreak  from  the  little  iron  camp-bed  that 
I  have  previously  mentioned,  he  shaves  himself,  is  as- 
sisted to  dress  by  his  valet,  and  proceeds  to  his  coffee 
and  rolls  in  the  adjoining  study.  As  soon  as  these  are 
despatched,  the  work  of  the  day  begins,  and  he  turns  to 
good  account  the  early  hours  that  the  majority  of  his 
subjects  spend  in  sleep,  although  his  aides-de-camp 
and  Flugel-Adjudants  are  forced  in  turn,  when  on  duty, 
to  keep  the  same  hours  as  himself.  Indeed,  greatly  to 
the  consternation  ol  some  high  and  mighty  officials ,  he  has 
of  late  years  fallen  in  the  habit  of  frequently  giving  au- 
dience to  Ministers  and  Officers  of  State  at  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning!     But,  as  a  general  rule,  these  first,  fresh 

291 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

morning  hours  are  usually  devoted  to  the  consideration 
of  the  despatches  and  reports  that  have  been  sent  in 
from  the  various  departments,  and  nothing  is  allowed 
to  escape  the  Emperor's  careful  eye,  as  his  endorse- 
ments and  marginal  annotations  attest.  Sometimes 
these  are  of  the  nature  of  drastic  criticism,  at  others 
they  display  a  humor  for  which  one  would  not  think 
"the  hardest -worked  man  in  the  Empire"  could  find 
opportunity. 

For  instance,  on  the  margin  of  one  despatch,  from  an 
Austrian  Ambassador  abroad,  were  found  the  words, 
"very  pompous  and  trivial,"  while  another  bore  the 

remark,  "Count  X has  signed  this  report, but  seems 

to  have  been  absent  when  it  was  written." 

The  Ruler  of  Austro-Hungary  is  one  of  the  wealthi- 
est Sovereigns  of  Europe,  since,  in  addition  to  his  civil 
list,  he  commands  from  his  personal  fortune  an  income 
which,  even  in  these  days  of  multifarious  multi-million- 
aires, is  of  unusual  magnitude ;  but  what  he  allows  him- 
self for  his  own  gratification  is  really  ridiculously  pathet- 
ic or  pathetically  ridiculous.  The  terms  in  this  instance 
are  interchangeable. 

As  often  as  improvements  are  suggested  for  his  personal 
comfort  at  the  Hofburg  or  elsewhere,  he  is  always  pre- 
pared with  an  excuse,  or  an  explanation,  to  justify  their 
being  dispensed  with,  and,  with  vigorous  protest,  in- 
variably attempts  to  extinguish  the  blaze  of  entreaty 
from  his  attendants  into  ashes  of  discouragement. 

When  electrical  ventilating  apparatus  first  came  into 
use,  and  the  model  of  one  specially  constructed  for  cre- 
ating a  draught  through  a  fire-place  during  the  summer 
months  was  shown  to  the  Emperor,  he  declared  himself 
delighted  with  it. 

The  Court  was  just  on  the  point  of  leaving  Vienna  for 
Ischl,  and  through  the  open  windows  Francis  -  Joseph 

292 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

glanced  at  the  fine  old  lindens,  acacias,  chestnuts,  and 
clipped  ilex,  the  parterres  of  brilliant  flowers,  the  foun- 
tains which  the  hot  sun-rays  touched  to  pinks,  blues, 
and  greens,  and  numberless  iridescent  tints,  while  he 
seemed  immersed  in  silent  calculation.  At  last  he 
turned  to  his  first  "  Leib-Kammerdiener  "  (first  valet) — a 
faithful  servant,  who  simply  worships  his  Imperial  Mas- 
ter, and  has  been  at  his  side  for  many  long  years. 

'This  is  an  excellent  device — excellent!  Pray  order 
some  to  be  at  once  adjusted  in  the  apartments  of  the 
Empress  and  of  Archduchess  Marie-Valerie." 

The  disappointed  attendant  gazed  with  long-suffering 
eyes  at  his  Master. 

"And  also  in  Your  Majesty's  rooms,  of  course?"  he 
questioned,  almost  imploringly. 

"Not  at  all!  It  is  a  useless  toy  for  an  old  soldier  like 
me." 

"I  feared  as  much,  Majesty,"  the  valet  murmured, 
respectfully,  but  firmly.  "Your  Majesty  will,  I  trust, 
reconsider  this,  for  the  rooms  occupied  by  Your  Majesty 
during  the  summer  visits  from  Ischl  are  very  warm  and 
uncomfortable,  as  the  sun  pours  in  all  the  afternoon." 

"I  see,"  quoth  the  Emperor,  with  a  mischievous  smile, 
"you  are  going  to  try  your  persuasions  once  more  upon 
your  very  trying  and  obstinate  old  Master." 

The  man  looked  with  entreaty  at  the  Emperor. 

"  I  have  often  contradicted  Your  Majesty,"  he  pleaded, 
"but  only  when  it  was  for  Your  Majesty's  good.  I  beg 
Your  Majesty  to  forgive  me,  but  these  electric  fans  are 
necessary  to  Your  Majesty's  welfare  in  summer." 

'You  need  not  ask  my  forgiveness  for  a  mere  differ- 
ence of  opinion,"  replied  the  Emperor,  who  could  hardly 
keep  from  laughing  (to  be  honest,  His  Most  Catholic 
Majesty's  gravity  of  countenance  was  preserved  only 
with   the   greatest   difficulty);  "your  conscience  is  too 

293 


A   KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

sensitive,  but  you  must  not  worry  any  more  about  the 
electric  fans,  because  I  am  not  going  to  spend  hundreds 
of  florins  to  keep  myself  a  little  cooler." 

"Only  a  hundred  apiece,"  whispered  the  " Leib-Kam- 
merdiener,"  imploringly. 

"Well" — the  Emperor's  eyes  searched  his  valet's  face 
for  a  second  keenly — "I  am  not  going  to  spend  a  hun- 
dred florins  apiece  for  my  chimneys.  I  am  only  here  a 
few  days  at  a  time  in  summer,  and,  moreover" — as  if  with 
an  afterthought — "the  weather  prophets  say  that  we  will 
have  no  great  heat  this  year.  Sufficient  unto  the  day 
will  be  the  evil  thereof,"  he  concluded,  his  blue  eyes 
twinkling.  "  It  is  very  selfish  of  you  to  be  always  think- 
ing of  my  comfort;  so  go  at  once  and  order  those  fans 
for  Her  Majesty's  apartments  and  for  the  Arch- 
duchess's." 

The  "  Kammerdiener  "  did  not  move.  Plainly  he  was 
unwilling  to  be  dismissed  without  a  loop-hole  for  escape 
in  the  direction  of  disobedience  being  left  to  him,  a  fact 
of  which  the  Emperor  was  fully  aware. 

"I  quite  understand,"  he  said,  slightly  raising  his  voice 
for  his  man's  speedier  conviction.  "It's  a  part  of  your 
little  game  to  stand  there  innocently  until  I  change  my 
mind.  I'll  thank  you  to  remember  that  I  am  not  yet 
in  my  dotage.  So  it's  no  use  for  you  to  stick  to  your 
guns  in  this  obstinate  fashion.  Don't  you  know  that 
ready  concession  is  due  from  the  young  to  the  old?" 

The  gray -haired  serving-man  gazed  wearily  but  reso- 
lutely at  his  master,  who  raised  a  forbidding  hand,  "I 
will  listen  to  no  more  protestations,  and,  for  the  rest, 
you  may  count  upon  my  forgiveness,  but  don't  do  it 
again,"  with  which  consoling  conclusion  the  crestfallen 
"  Leib -Kammerdiener  "  had  to  be  satisfied. 

A  month  or  so  later,  however,  when  the  Emperor, 
leaving  the  delicious  freshness  of  the  "  Kaiservilla"  at 

294 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Ischl,  where  clematis  and  jessamine  climb  and  twine 
about  terrace  and  veranda,  where  roses  in  glorious  pro- 
fusion shed  their  petals  on  heavenly  green  lawns  be- 
neath the  beneficent  shadow  of  pine  and  fir,  and  the 
forest  Maiglockchen  fill  the  air  with  their  fairy  fragrance, 
to  take  possession  for  a  fortnight  of  his  quarters  at  the 
Hofburg — undeniably  hot  and  stuffy  at  such  a  season 
— he  was  surprised  to  find  them  exquisitely  cool  and 
pleasant.  Gravely  he  walked  to  the  fireplace  and  in- 
vestigated it. 

"Aha!"  exclaimed  he,  pointing  a  threatening  fore- 
finger at  the  "  Kammerdiener"  who  was  unpacking  a 
dressing-case  with  an  air  of  painfully  absorbed  atten- 
tion. "Aha!  so  you  have  won  your  point,  after  all; 
passive  endurance  must  become  my  forte  if  I  wish  to 
enjoy  peace  and  quiet.  But" — and  he  shook  his  head 
ominously  —  "I  wish  you  would -forego  some  of  your 
more  burdensome  responsibilities.  A  man  can't  avoid 
all  of  them,  I  know,  but  yours  must  be  especially  irk- 
some— your  exaggerated  anxiety  for  my  comfort,  for 
instance.  Believe  me,  forego  this  heaviest  one,  at  least, 
since  good  intentions  in  this  vale  of  tears  bring  no 
gratitude." 

The  three  valets  who  are  nearest  to  the  Emperor's 
person  are  now  Rudolph  Rottner,  bedroom  valet,  Rai- 
mund  Zrunek,  his  assistant,  and  Eugene  Ketterl,  who 
is  intrusted  with  the  full  care  and  charge  of  the  military 
wardrobe,  a  huge  room,  panelled  in  light  oak  and  lined 
with  deep  cupboards,  which  hold  the  multitudinous 
uniforms  required  by  the  Sovereign  for  various  occa- 
sions, such  as  reviews,  receptions,  visits  to  and  from 
foreign  Royalties,  etc. 

The  neatness  of  this  curious  place  is  marvellous.  Not 
a  grain  of  dust  is  to  be  seen  on  the  highly  polished 
tesselated  floor,  the  two  or  three  large  tables  where  the 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

garments  are  folded  after  being  used,  the  tall  oaken 
stands  upon  which  they  are  aired  before  and  after  con- 
veyance to  the  Emperor's  dressing-room,  and,  of  course, 
still  less  within  the  great  clothes-presses,  where  each 
shelf,  drawer,  or  compartment  is  provided  with  a  card 
whereon  is  beautifully  engrossed  the  nature  of  the  con- 
tents. These  include,  besides  military  garb  belonging  to 
all  branches  of  the  Austrian  service,  that  of  an  English 
and  a  Prussian  Field -Marshal,  of  a  Swedish  General, 
and  uniforms  of  no  less  than  ten  foreign  regiments  of 
which  he  is  honorary  Colonel — namely,  the  English  Dra- 
goon Guards,  Fifth  Portugese  Infantry,  Russian  Thirty- 
fifth  Dragoons  of  Bielgorod,  Russian  Kexholm  Guard, 
Prussian  Kaiser-Franz  Grenadiers  of  the  Guard,  Prus- 
sian Emperor  Francis-Joseph  Hussars,  First  Saxon  Lan- 
cers, Sixth  Roumanian  Artillery,  Fourth  Wurtemberg 
Infantry,  and  Thirteenth  Bavarian  Infantry,  etc.,  etc., 
etc! 

Another  important  personage  of  the  immediate  House- 
hold is  the  first  "  Zimmerau) 'seller" — literally  translated, 
first  room-superintendent — Joseph  Traxler,  whose  portly 
presence,  huge  bunch  of  keys,  imposing  demeanor,  and 
dignified  mien  are  quite  as  much  features  of  the  Hofburg 
as  are  its  unique  tapestries  and  magnificent  frescoes. 

There  is  yet  another  far  humbler  and  much  less  state- 
ly individual  there  also,  for  whom  Francis- Joseph  has  a 
quite  special  regard,  and  this  is  His  Majesty's  own  per- 
sonal "  Holztrdger  "  (wood  carrier),  Franz  Meidl.  Famil- 
iarly known  to  the  entire  personnel  of  the  Hofburg  as 
"  Meiderl,"  this  excellent  man  is  a  character,  in  his  quiet, 
unobtrusive  fashion.  Always  cheerful,  smiling,  oblig- 
ing, he  may  often  be  seen  hurrying  silently  through 
all  the  superb  glitter,  the  perfumes,  the  lavish  luxuri- 
ousness  of  the  Imperial  Palace,  his  wooden  hod,  filled 
with  olive  and  cedar  logs,  balanced  on  his  shoulder, 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

and  his  great,  square  basket  of  pine-cones  and  tiny- 
bundles  of  carefully  packed  dry  heather  hanging  from 
his  arm,  for  upon  him  repose  the  responsibilities  of 
keeping  up  crackling  fares  on  the  hearths  of  the  private 
apartments  throughout  the  winter. 

"Meiderl"  to  the  community,  the  old  man  is  often 
called  by  the  irreverent  pages-in-waiting  and  young 
officers  of  the  guard  the  "Vestal,"  thanks  to  the  almost 
devotional  fashion  in  which  he  accomplishes  his  office. 
Softly  he  sinks  upon  his  knees  before  the  altar — I  mean 
the  fireplace  —  arranges  the  diminutive  heather  fagots 
and  pine-cones  with  scrupulous  exactitude,  tops  the 
edifice  with  severely  cleaned  and  selected  logs,  sets  a 
light  to  it  reverently,  blows  little  flames  into  greater 
ones  with  his  breath  as  noiselessly  as  possible  (for  he 
despises  bellows,  which  he  judges  to  be  both  vulgar  and 
disrespectfully  squeaky),  and  remains  kneeling  until 
there  is  not  the  slightest  danger  of  the  blaze  going  out. 

His  calling  to  him  is  of  an  almost  sacerdotal  nature; 
it  is  his  purpose  in  life,  his  greatest  joy,  and  he  goes 
on  with  his  work  from  October  to  May,  healthy  in  mind 
and  body,  a  hale  and  hearty  old  man,  with  white 
whiskers,  a  humorous  mouth,  a  large,  well-shaped,  am- 
bitious nose,  and  a  delightful  sense  of  being  one  of  the 
most  necessary  rivets  in  the  great  Imperial  engine. 

As  I  have  already  said,  the  Emperor  greatly  likes  this 
old  fellow  in  the  neat  blue  linen  garments,  who  years 
and  years  ago  served  at  his  side  on  many  battle-fields, 
and  he  never  misses  a  chance  of  joking  him  about 
the  fact  that  to-day,  as  then,  he  is  dauntless  under 
fire.  Anybody  seeing  the  "  Kaiserlich-Koniglicker  Hof- 
Holztrdger" — which  means,  literally,  the  "Imperial  and 
Royal  Court  Wood  Carrier" — look  at  his  beloved  master 
and  erstwhile  generalissimo  on  one  of  these  occasions, 
his  brown,  wrinkled  countenance  suddenly  lit  up  with 

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pleasure,  becomes  at  once  aware  that  even  this  man  of 
humble  calling  has  it  in  his  power  to  let  in  floods  of 
light  upon  the  passionate  loyalty  and  affection  with 
which  Francis-Joseph  inspires  high  and  low  in  his  vast 
Household  and  vaster  dominions. 

Whenever  the  Emperor  re-enters  the  Hofburg,  after 
an  absence  of  more  or  less  duration,  he  makes  a  point 
of  greeting  all  those  old  servants  who  have  been  so  long 
near  him,  with  a  certain  whimsical  and  very  amusing 
assumption  of  surprise  at  finding  them  still  at  their 
respective  posts. 

"So  we  meet  again,  old  friend!"  he  usually  says  in  his 
crisp  tones,  raising  his  eyebrows  slightly  with  droll  aston- 
ishment and  with  a  mischievous  flicker  in  his  wonder- 
fully youthful  eyes  as  he  appears  to  ponder.  "Let  me 
see — is  it  twenty,  thirty,  forty,  or  fifty  years  since  we 
first  became  acquainted?  I  trust  you  are  doing  fairly 
well,  but  you  had  best  be  on  your  guard,  none  the  less, 
else  you  will  soon  be  as  old  as  I  am!"  and  then  he  passes 
on,  while  the  favored  recipient  of  this  mark  of  Imperial 
regard,  be  it  a  he  or  a  she,  remains  quite  a  full  minute 
gazing  after  him  with  adoring  eyes  and  a  smile  that 
verges  perilously  upon  the  tearful  side  of  joy. 

How  he  manages  it  I  am  lamentably  unable  to  ex- 
plain, but  it  is  a  solemn  fact  that  the  names  and  faces 
of  his  immense  retinue  of  old  servants  are  known  to  him 
as  if  they  belonged  to  his  family.  Stadler,  the  head 
cellarer;  Bernhardt,  the  French  head-chef ;  Franz  Eff  en  - 
berger,  the  famous  Viennese  confectioner;  the  imposing 
and  superb  Joseph  Schlogel,  who  watches  at  the  outer 
palace  door  leading  to  the  Sovereign's  private  apart- 
ments, gorgeous  in  the  glory  of  his  gold-edged  livery, 
broad  baldric  supporting  a  sword  of  office,  plumed 
cocked  hat,  long  ''baton  "  (surmounted  by  a  crown  and 
orb,  upon  which  rests  a  double-headed  eagle  of  gold), 

298 


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A   KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

knee-breeches  and  silken  hose  revealing  the  finest  pair 
of  calves  in  Vienna — and  all  the  other  old  palace-em- 
ployees, whether  they  belong  to  one  or  the  other  de- 
partment of  the  Maison  de  I'Empereur,  can  truthfully 
boast  of  being  personally  known,  liked,  and  individually 
appreciated  by  their  kindly,  large-hearted  master. 

In  his  present  loneliness  the  Emperor  finds  no  greater 
consolation  than  to  withdraw  to  the  three  rooms  which 
are  most  pecularly  his  own,  his  bedroom,  his  study,  and 
a  little  "salon,"  all  opening  into  each  other,  and  where 
it  is  understood  that  he  is  to  remain  completely  un- 
disturbed and  unmolested. 

None  know  better  than  he  how  exceeding  great  is  the 
impatience  for  solitude  of  the  bereaved,  and  with  what 
febrile  vehemence  the  smitten  heart  longs  for  peace  and 
silence,  nor  to  what  improbable  lengths  hours  and  min- 
utes can  stretch  themselves  for  those  condemned  to  be 
deprived  of  such  boons. 

This  suite  of  apartments  is  furnished  with  almost  dis- 
concerting simplicity.  There  is  nothing  Imperial  in  the 
long,  narrow,  sleeping  chamber,  where  the  plain,  service- 
able chairs  and  tables,  and  the  small,  iron  camp-bed 
seem  almost  to  apologize  for  their  humble  appearance. 
The  walls  are,  however,  absolutely  covered  with  por- 
traits in  oil  and  water  colors,  photographs,  and  quaint, 
touching  little  souvenirs  of  those  he  loves  and  has  loved. 
Here  hang  a  dozen  pictures,  at  least,  of  the  Empress, 
taken  at  various  periods  of  her  life,  also  a  score  or  more 
representing  the  late  Crown-Prince,  Archduchess  Gisela, 
Archduchess  Marie- Valerie,  and  her  numerous  babies, 
etc.  Scattered  among  them  are  some  primitive  sketches 
due  to  the  first  artistic  efforts  of  his  children  and  grand- 
children, also,  carefully  preserved  under  glass,  several 
old-fashioned  "samplers,"  embroidered  fifty  years  ago 
by  "the  little  Rose  of  Possenhofen,"  and  a  bouquet  of 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

pressed  mountain  blossoms  gathered  for  him  by  her 
little  hand  during  the  first  days  of  her  engagement  to 
him,  at  which  he  gazes,  hungry-eyed,  striving  to  pierce 
the  mists  of  the  past,  and  to  remember  every  small  in- 
cident, every  insignificant  detail,  of  that  happy,  hopeful 
time. 

Beside  the  bed  a  velvet  prie-dieu,  embroidered  by 
Elizabeth  with  pale  pansies  and  lilies,  supports,  on  its 
high,  carved  arm-rest,  a  Book  of  Hours,  from  which  de- 
pend the  delicately  painted  ends  of  a  broad,  satin  rib- 
bon marker,  executed  by  Archduchess  Sophia,  while 
above  it, "fastened  to  the  wall,  is  a  curious  little  crucifix 
fashioned  of  rough  wood  by  the  infant  hand  of  "  Rudi" 
at  the  instigation  and  with  the  help  of  his  grandfather, 
Archduke  Franz-Karl. 

Life  for  those  who  have  left  hope  behind  them,  take 
it  as  you  will,  is  just  an  incubus,  and  language  fails  one 
to  convey  any  notion  of  how  heavily  it  weighs  on  the 
shoulders  of  Francis-Joseph.  Such  sorrows  as  his  merely 
glance  away  from  the  young  and  reserve  their  serious 
ravages  for  the  old,  to  whom  Nepenthe  is  impossible, 
and  who,  in  their  helpless  pain,  dumbly  cry  to  fate, "  Why 
have  you  done  these  things  to  me?" 

The  Emperor's  study  is  somewhat  more  luxurious 
than  the  bedroom.  At  any  rate,  it  is  vast  and  lofty; 
also,  it  is  rather  sombre.  The  walls  are  hung  with  dark 
and  darker  amaranth  tapestry,  in  vertical  stripes,  "  ton 
sur  tony  and  there  is  a  thick,  dark -red  carpet  upon 
the  floor.  Immediately  against  the  great,  square  desk 
stands,  on  a  ponderous  easel,  and  massively  framed  in 
pale  gold,  the  celebrated  portrait  of  Empress  Elizabeth 
by  Winterhalter.  Deep  arm-chairs,  upholstered  in  ama- 
ranth brocade,  a  few  tables,  cabinets,  and  bookcases, 
and  two  or  three  fine  paintings,  among  which  is  a  su- 
perb  "Crucifixion,"   complete    the  unostentatious    ar- 

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A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

rangement  of  this  room,  where  so  many  important  docu- 
ments are  signed  daily,  and  where  Francis-Joseph  is  so 
often  found,  already  at  work,  before  sunrise.  One  of 
the  tall  windows  opening  upon  a  balcony  is  that  which 
he  throws  open,  whenever  the  weather  permits,  in  order 
to  listen  for  a  few  minutes  to  the  music  played  by  the 
"  Hofkapelle  "  (Imperial  band)  in  the  wide,  stone-paved 
court-yard  of  the  Hofburg  below. 

It  is  astonishing  what  men  will  prize,  what  men  will 
treasure!  Emperor  Francis-Joseph,  for  example,  prizes 
and  treasures  above  all  his  magnificent  art  collections — 
ay,  above  the  very  Regalia  which  has  descended  to  him  in 
its  glittering  splendor  through  a  long  course  of  centuries, 
a  couple  of  drawerfuls  of  short  letters,  in  a  cabinet  hard 
by,  written  in  a  rather  large,  not  remarkably  legible 
hand,  by  his  only  son,  and  a  couple  more  drawerfuls 
penned  on  pale-gray  paper,  on  the  left-hand  upper  cor- 
ner of  which  a  tiny  Imperial  crown  is  embossed  in  sil- 
ver, curiously  interlaced  with  the  initial  "E."  From 
these  last-mentioned  there  is  still  to  be  detected  just  a 
trace,  just  the  faintest  reminder  of  the  delicate  perfume 
— vague,  elusive,  and  exquisitely  personal  and  intimate 
— with  which  everything  Empress  Elizabeth  wore  or 
touched  has  remained  impregnated. 

How  many  times  has  the  lonely  old  man  read  and 
reread  those  closely  penned,  satiny  sheets,  think  you? 
How  many  times,  since  the  days  when  all  hope  of  sun- 
shine went  out  of  his  life  for  good  and  aye,  when  his 
mental  atmosphere  became  sluggish  and  suffocating,  as 
if  it  had  yielded  up  its  vital  principle,  and  the  sable 
cloud  of  an  unfathomable  grief  spread  with  awful  rapid- 
ity over  his  heaven. 

It  may  not  be  quite  right,  quite  fair,  to  reveal  in  print 
such  little  secrets,  but  biographers  are  the  most  un- 
principled of  people,  I  fear,  Us  prennent  leur  bien  oil  Us 

301 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

le  trouvent,  nor  do  they  deem  that  it  is  right  to  carry- 
delicacy  too  far,  for  some  biographies  are  certain  to  be 
heart  -  rending  even  if  they  be  written  with  the  most 
praiseworthy  and  unequalled  discretion. 

Nor  is  it  a  very  great  crime,  after  all,  to  picture  things 
and  feelings  which  are  the  constant  companions,  the 
witnesses  of  such  a  man's  life — phases  of  himself  which 
have  remained  hidden  hitherto — and  which  should  now 
be  told  because  they  not  only  are  rich  in  precious  revela- 
tions of  a  character  extraordinarily  fine,  but  because 
they  express  him  in  an  aspect  which  would  otherwise 
never  b€come  known  outside  of  his  immediate  family 
circle,  an  aspect  hitherto  quite  concealed  by  the  con- 
ventional barriers  stretched  between  a  personage  of  his 
lofty  rank  and  the  rest  of  the  world. 

And  though  I  am  at  times  possessed  by  a  sense  of 
what  I  cannot  but  call  the  liberty  I  am  taking  in  em- 
bodying my  knowledge  of  him  in  a  published  book,  for 
all  who  read  to  carp  at,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  seems 
that  the  real  wrong  would  be  to  withhold  that  great, 
strange  chapter  of  his  private  life,  which  shows  how 
wrongly  and  unfairly  he  has  often  been  judged. 

A  family  man  par  excellence,  Francis -Joseph  fairly 
worships  Archduchess  Marie-Valerie's  children,  and  also 
his  bonnie  young  Heir  Presumptive,  the  eldest  son  of 
that  remarkably  handsome  man,  Archduke  Otto,  and 
of  the  charming  Archduchess  Maria-Josepha,  who  now 
holds  the  position  of  "First  Lady  in  the  Land." 

Young  Karl-Franz  is  growing  tall  and  slender  as  a 
young  fir-tree;  he  has  his  father's  magnificent  eyes,  his 
mother's  sweetness  of  expression,  and  is  very  manly 
and  well  developed  for  his  sixteen  years.  He  rides  ex- 
tremely well,  and,  generally  speaking,  flatters  the  amour 
propre  of  his  Imperial  great -uncle,  who  likes  well,  indeed, 
the  boldness  and  ardor  the  lad  displays  in  all  physical 

302 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

exercises.  The  uttermost  he  wishes  for  him  is  that  he 
should  grow  up  a  frank,  brave,  honest  man,  so  as  to 
become  in  time  a  good  Monarch;  and  meanwhile  the 
boy  is  happy,  full  of  fun  and  merry  pranks,  devoted  to 
his  gentle  mother,  whom  he  treats  with  unconscious  but 
touching  chivalry,  proud  of  his  dashing,  splendid-look- 
ing father,  and  seeing  in  the  Emperor  himself  the  em- 
bodiment of  all  human  perfection. 

The  clamor,  the  disputes,  the  wrong-doings  of  the 
world  are  as  yet  closed  letters  to  him,  and  he  cares  but 
little  for  his  own  fate  or  his  own  future,  great  and 
glorious  though  it  is  likely  to  be,  for  the  children  of  his 
uncle,  Archduke  Francis-Ferdinand,  the  present  heir  to 
the  Dual  Crown,  and  of  Countess  Sophia  Chotek,  now 
Princess  von  Hohenberg,  his  morganatic  wife,  are  ex- 
cluded from  all  rights  of  succession  to  the  Throne. 

Few  possess  the  gift  of  arousing  and  of  retaining 
affection  and  loyalty  to  the  same  degree  as  does  the 
Emperor.  As  I  let  my  pen  run  swiftly  on  to  the 
names  of  some  of  those  who  have  most  deeply  felt  this 
power  and  have  acknowledged  it  with  a  life-long  de- 
votion, I  assume  no  rose-colored  spectacles,  but  write 
what  really  is,  with  the  aid  of  no  illusive  glamour. 

His  oldest  companion  and  comrade  was  the  late  Count 
Taaffe,  an  Austrian,  who  was  also  an  Irish  peer,  and  of 
whom  I  have  already  made  mention  on  two  or  three  oc- 
casions. When  he  died  the  Emperor  bitterly  lamented 
this  to  himself  wellnigh  irreparable  loss,  for  the  Count 
was  not  only  the  associate  of  youthful  days,  but  also  the 
trusty  counsellor  of  later  years,  a  faithful,  honest  man, 
gaunt  of  figure,  and  with  a  face  plain,  indeed,  but  prepos- 
sessing by  its  frank  candor,  its  constant  good-humor  and 
expression  of  keen,  alert,  indomitable  cleverness.  He 
certainly  was  an  adept  in  the  difficult  art  of  dealing  with 
the  turbulent  Austrian  Diet,  and  of  bending  it  to  what  he 

3°3 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

knew  to  be  the  policy  of  the  Emperor,  whose  wishes  alone 
he  consulted  and  endeavored  to  fulfil.  He  was  also  one  of 
the  most  peculiar  looking  men  in  Vienna.  Aquiline  feat- 
ures, a  long,  narrow  head,  black  hair,  worn  rather  long, 
falling  to  the  collar  of  a  strangely  cut,  old  gray  frock-coat, 
which  he  invariably  wore,  and  an  odd-looking  high  silk 
hat,  perched  on  the  back  of  his  head,  made  up  a  tout  en- 
semble which  was  a  perfect  gold-mine  to  the  Viennese 
caricaturists,  who  were  never  tired  of  portraying  him,  as 
well  as  his  old  coachman,  who  was  almost  as  well-known 
a  character  at  the  Austrian  capital  as  the  Count  himself. 

This  ^worthy  Jehu,  who  ordered  around  his  illustri- 
ous master  in  the  most  amusing  fashion,  had  been  in 
his  service  for  many  years.  He  trimmed  his  hair  in 
the  same  peculiar  manner  as  the  Count,  wore  the  same 
kind  of  "tile,"  perched  on  the  very  back  of  his  head, 
and  when  not  in  livery  was  usually  arrayed  in  one  of 
Taaffe's  old  gray  frock-coats.  Indeed,  the  resemblance 
between  master  and  man  was  so  striking  as  to  be  posi- 
tively ludicrous,  and  constituted  one  of  the  stock  jokes 
of  the  Viennese  comic  papers. 

Another  member  of  the  then  Prime-Minister's  house- 
hold, who  was  scarcely  less  well  known  than  his  famous 
coachman,  was  his  dog,  "Moppi,"  the  most  remarkable 
poodle  in  the  Empire,  and  certainly  more  popular  than 
Prince  Bismarck's  Reichshund. 

"Moppi"  was  for  many  years  the  constant  and  in- 
separable companion  of  the  Count,  and  was  probably 
acquainted  with  more  State  secrets  than  any  other  dog 
in  Europe,  for  he  used  to  sit  solemnly  on  a  chair  in  a 
corner  of  the  Prime-Minister's  room  at  the  palace,  where 
the  Cabinet  Councils  were  held  and  audiences  were  re- 
ceived, with  a  look  of  truly  statesman-like  sagacity  on 
his  clever  and  intelligent  face. 

Unfortunately,  "  Moppi  V  official  decorum  and  unim- 

3°4 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

peachable  conduct  in  official  matters  did  not  extend  to 
his  private  life,  which  was  characterized  by  numerous 
indiscretions,  and  as  soon  as  night  set  in  this  light- 
hearted  canine  was  wont  to  cast  aside  the  cares  of  office 
and  become  one  of  the  gayest  dogs  in  Vienna. 

It  was  during  one  of  these  midnight  excursions  that 
he  was  mauled  and  torn  by  rival  Don  Juans  and  re- 
ceived fatal  injuries,  to  which  he  succumbed,  although 
tenderly  nursed  by  the  Prime-Minister  of  Austria  and 
by  the  Countess,  his  wife,  one  of  the  greatest  ladies  of 
the  Empire. 

"Moppi"  lies  buried  in  one  of  the  prettiest  corners 
of  the  park  surrounding  the  Count's  beautiful  country 
seat  at  Ellisch,  and  the  tombstone  that  marks  his  grave 
bears  the  following  inscription:  ,;< Moppi,'  the  favorite 
of  all"  and  was  always  surrounded  by  a  beautiful  bed 
of  flowers. 

The  late  Count  Julius  Andrassy,  too,  was  an  invalu- 
able man  to  the  Emperor,  who  used  to  pat  him  on  the 
shoulder  and  exclaim  appreciatingly,  in  allusion  to  the 
Count's  fighting  on  the  side  of  the  Hungarian  rebels, 
which  necessitated  his  escaping  from  the  country  to 
save  his  neck:  "  How  glad  I  am  that  I  did  not  hang  you 

in  '49!" 

He  was  not  only  an  extraordinarily  able  statesman, 
but  simply  and  intrinsically  a  great  man.  Rather 
tall,  very  slender,  and  endowed  with  one  of  those 
physiognomies  so  lively  and  so  expressive  of  wit  that 
the  absence  of  what  is  generally  called  good  looks  is 
not  regretted  or  even  observed,  he  was  a  privileged 
person  at  Court,  brusque,  sometimes  sans  facon  also, 
but  so  overflowing  with  true  esprit  that  his  mere  en- 
trance into  a  room  seemed  to  banish  care  and  weari- 
ness. 

Such  was  Julius  Andrassy — plucky,  dashing,  always 
30  3°5 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

"on  deck,"  never  jaded,  never  bored,  but  ever  looking 
as  if  life  were  the  pleasantest  comedy  that  could  be 
played,  and  as  if  sorrow  and  anxiety  could  not  withstand 
his  caustic  humor  and  wonderful  talent  for  seeing 
the  pleasantest  side  of  things,  whatever  came  to  pass. 

But  let  me  proceed  from  the  dead  to  the  living,  to  some 
of  those  gray-haired  men  who  are  still  at  their  posts,  and 
whose  whole  devotion  to  the  Emperor,  far  from  diminish- 
ing with  time,  has  increased  with  every  passing  year. 

General-of-Cavalry  Count  Paar,  who  is  the  Emperor's 
principal  aide-de-camp,  as  well  as  the  chief  of  his  Mili- 
tary Household,  and  who  is  more  constantly  at  his  side 
than  any  other  member  of  his  suite,  is  perhaps  the  one 
person  who  enjoys  to  a  greater  degree  than  any  one 
else  the  confidence  of  his  Imperial  Master. 

Tall,  with  an  air  of  extreme  distinction  and  an  ex- 
pression at  once  slightly  melancholy  and  a  trifle  cynical, 
he  bears  himself  somewhat  listlessly  and  indolently  &  la 
surface,  but  his  handsome  eyes  can  flash  glances  which 
search  the  inmost  soul  of  others,  and  his  absolute  sin- 
cerity of  character  and  of  utterance  is  known  to  the 
whole  country.  His  impassive  calm,  his  punctilious 
courtesy,  and  his  unalterable  serenity  are  proverbial, 
as  is  also  his  keen  knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  social 
and  Court  etiquette.  The  life  of  incessant  activity  and 
change  to  which  he  is  subjected  is  never  permitted  to 
ruffle  his  temper  in  the  slightest.  The  busy  months 
that  he  spends  with  the  Emperor  at  Vienna,  the  con- 
tinual changes  from  Schonbrunn  to  Godollo,  Ischl, 
Prague,  or  Ebensee,  according  to  the  duty  or  necessity 
of  the  moment,  the  visits  to  foreign  Courts,  the  fa- 
tiguing weeks  spent  in  attending  the  great  autumnal  or 
spring  manoeuvres,  the  everlasting  succession  of  fetes 
in  which  he  is  forced  to  take  part,  do  not  shake  his  im- 
perturbability in  the  least,  and  this  in  itself  makes  him 

306 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

indispensable.  Everywhere  his  tall,  commanding  figure 
and  finely  modelled  face  are  to  be  seen  at  the  Emperor's 
shoulder,  while  his  knack  of  saying  things  gracefully, 
and  his  total  lack  of  hypocrisy,  give  all  those  who  come 
in  contact  with  him  a  sense  of  bien  etre  and  of  confidence. 
Nor  is  what  I  say  of  him  conventional  compliment ;  it  is 
the  genuine  expression  of  a  very  universal  opinion,  to 
which  I  am  glad  to  add  the  tribute  of  an  old  and  sincere 
personal  regard. 

Prince  Rudolph  Lichtenstein,  the  present  Grand- 
Master -of -the -Court,  is  also  a  great  favorite  with  the 
Emperor  and  an  exceedingly  handsome  man,  ce  qui  ne 
gate  rien.  Gallant,  courageous,  and  generous,  he  was 
the  principal  cavalier  of  the  late  Empress,  and  was  in- 
trusted with  the  mission  of  accompanying  her  to  Eng- 
land and  Ireland  when  she  went  there  to  hunt.  His 
attachment  to  Francis- Joseph,  who  holds  him  in  the 
highest  esteem,  is  deep  and  unswerving. 

Prince  Hugo  Dietrichstein,  one  of  the  Emperor's  favor- 
ite aides-de-camp,  is  a  tall,  graceful  officer,  remarkable 
for  the  most  winning  smile  and  the  courtliest  bow  to  be 
found  throughout  the  Empire.  He  is  also  extremely  well 
favored,  and,  like  most  .Austrian  aristocrats,  excellent- 
ly versed  in  all  sports. 

I  perceive  that  if  I  indulge  myself  in  any  more  de- 
scriptions of  the  Emperor's  entourage  I  will  be  carried 
far  further  than  I  intend,  space  being  now,  at  the  last, 
a  matter  of  some  importance;  but  I  cannot  close  this 
little  gallery  of  pen-portraits  without  a  passing  mention 
of  F.  M.  L.  Baron  von  Beck,  now  Chief -of-Staff,  and  one 
of  the  finest  soldiers  in  Austria.  He  carries  his  grizzled 
head  with  that  air  which  almost  invariably  bespeaks 
authority,  and  looks  out  over  the  Imperial  armies 
from  his  great  height  as  over  a  fine  standing  crop, 
the  grain  of  which  he  can,  at  a  sign,  gather  within  the 

3°7 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

hollow  of  his  hand  and  distribute  where  it  is  most 
needed. 

This  notable  man  has  friends  everywhere,  and  few 
enough  enemies  to  have  given  rise  to  the  report  that  he 
has  none — though  that  would  be  but  a  poor  and  un- 
truthful compliment  to  pay  to  one  of  such  worth  as  he. 

To  his  credit,  also,  be  it  noted  that  he  is  one  of  those 
military  leaders  who,  possessed  of  a  slow  tongue  and  a 
quick  brain — than  which  there  are  few  better  equip- 
ments for  a  soldier — has  won  the  affection  of  all  those 
who  serve  or  have  served  under  his  orders. 

Among  those  belonging  to  his  family,  and  upon  whom 
the  love  and  affection  of  the  Emperor  is  more  particu- 
larly centered,  is  his  granddaughter,  Archduchess  Eliza- 
beth, "Erzsi,"  as  she  is  familiarly  called,  the  only  child 
of  his  deeply  mourned  son,  "  Rudi,"  and  who  was  brought 
up  under  his  personal  care  and  supervision.  Indeed, 
the  Emperor  managed  to  find  time  even  to  direct  her 
studies  and  to  devise  her  pleasures,  and  manifested  so 
great  a  jealousy  of  the  trust  confided  to  him  by  his 
boy  in  the  matter  that  he  would  not  allow  the  child's 
mother  to  take  her  anywhere  out  of  his  dominions,  nor 
yet  to  have  any  voice  in  the  selection  of  little  " Erzsi' s  " 
Household. 

Moreover,  when  the  seventeen-year-old  girl  lost  her 
heart  to  a  young  cavalry  officer,  Prince  Otto  Windisch- 
Graetz,  the  Emperor,  after  a  violent  struggle  with  his 
ambition  for  her,  rather  than  stand  in  the  way  of  her 
happiness,  authorized  her  to  make  the  marriage  she 
desired,  and  richly  dowered  her,  although  the  bridegroom, 
far  from  being  of  Imperial  or  Royal  rank,  did  not  even 
belong  to  the  Mediatized  Families  of  Europe,  but  merely 
to  one  of  the  great  Houses  of  the  Austrian  Nobility. 

The  young  Archduchess  is,  I  hear,  exceedingly  happy 
in  her  married  life ;  and  the  union  has  also  been  fortunate 

3°8 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

in  a  political  sense,  as  it  has  put  an  end,  once  and  for 
all  time,  to  those  projects  of  the  Separatists,  or  other 
trouble-makers  in  Hungary's  Parliament,  who  put  her 
forward  as  their  candidate  for  the  Throne  of  Hungary 
on  the  death  of  the  grandfather,  to  whom  she  is  so 
passionately  devoted. 

Her  wedding  was,  as  customary  in  the  case  of  that  of 
every  Princess  of  the  Imperial  House  of  Habsburg,  pre- 
ceded by  what  is  known  at  Vienna  as  the  Act  of  Re- 
nunciation. 

So  much  misconception  exists,  not  only  abroad,  but 
even  in  Austria,  with  regard  to  this  ceremony  of  re- 
nunciation that  it  may  be  just  as  well  to  explain  what 
it  really  means. 

Placing  her  hand  upon  the  Gospels,  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Emperor,  of  the  members  of  the  Imperial 
Family,  and  of  the  principal  dignitaries  of  the  Realm, 
the  bride-elect  takes  a  vow  to  renounce  all  claim  to 
the  precedence,  rank,  and  rights  to  the  Throne,  which 
may  have  been  hers  by  birth,  in  order  to  share  those  of 
her  husband.  And  as  Prince  Otto  Windisch-Graetz  did 
not  belong  to  the  Imperial  Family,  is  a  mere  Noble,  and 
can  never,  even  by  the  most  remote  possibility,  be  called 
upon  to  succeed  to  the  Crowns  of  Austro-Hungary, 
Archduchess  Elizabeth  virtually  renounced  every  pros- 
pect to  a  Throne  which  she  had  until  then  possessed. 

The  succession  to  the  Throne  in  Austro-Hungary  is 
governed  partly  by  the  Pragmatic  Sanction  and  partly 
by  those  "Family  Statutes"  of  the  House  of  Habsburg, 
the  tenor  of  which  cannot  be  disclosed,  those  personages 
not  belonging  to  the  reigning  family  who  are  acquainted 
therewith,  such  as  the  Minister  of  the  Imperial  House- 
hold, being  bound,  by  the  most  solemn  and  iron-clad 
oath,  not  to  reveal  their  tenor  or  their  range. 

The  Pragmatic  Sanction  itself  is,  of  course,  no  secret. 

309 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

It  was  promulgated  as  far  back  as  the  reign  of  Emperor 
Charles  VI.  of  Germany,  the  last  descendent  in  the  male 
line  direct  of  the  House  of  Habsburg,  and  consists  of  a 
treaty  or  agreement  between  the  Austrian  and  Hun- 
garian moieties  of  his  dominions,  providing  not  only  for 
their  perpetual  union  but  likewise  for  the  succession  to 
the  Magyar  Crown.  Until  that  time  the  Hungarian  suc- 
cession had  been  governed  by  the  laws  of  primogeniture, 
women  as  well  as  men  being  capable  of  inheriting  the 
Crown. 

Charles  knew  that,  according  to  this  provision,  his 
daughter,  Maria-Theresia,  would,  in  default  of  male  is- 
sue, immediately  become  Queen  of  Hungary  upon  his 
death.  He  apprehended,  however,  that  obstacles  would 
be  raised  to  her  becoming  Empress  of  Germany,  that 
is  to  say,  Ruler  of  the  Austrian  and  German  portions  of 
his  dominions,  and  so  caused  it  to  be  stipulated  in  the 
Pragmatic  *  Sanction  that  Austria  and  Hungary  should 
always  be  united  and  always  ruled  by  one  and  the  same 
Sovereign. 

On  his  death,  his  daughter,  Maria-Theresia,  became 
immediately  Queen  Regnant  of  Hungary,  and  on  the 
strength  of  this  Pragmatic  Sanction  laid  immediate  claim 
to  the  Imperial  Throne  of  Germany,  a  pretension  which 
was  denied  by  a  number  of  German  Sovereigns,  including 
Frederick  the  Great  of  Prussia  and  the  Elector  of  Bavaria. 
Indeed,  it  was  not  until  after  many  sanguinary  wars  that 
she  ultimately  secured  a  species  of  compromise,  by  means 
of  which  her  husband,  Duke  Charles  of  Lorraine,  was 
elected  and  recognized  as  Emperor  of  Germany. 

Kossuth  and  the  Separatists  in  Austria  deny  the  ex- 
istence of  this  Pragmatic  Sanction,  declare  that  no  copy 
of  it  can  be  found  in  the  State  Archives  at  Pesth,  and 
even  go  so  far  as  to  insist  that  if  there  is  really  such  a 
document  in  existence  the  Hungarian  signatures  there- 

310 


A    FUTURE     EMPEROR.       ARCHDUKE     KARL-FRANZ, 

SON     OF    THE    ElEIR-PRESUMPTIVE, 

ARCHDUKE    OTTO 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

to  are  forgeries.  Were  there  any  foundation  to  this  pre- 
posterous assertion,  which,  I  regret  to  state,  is  credit- 
ed by  many  of  their  adherents,  Archduchess  Elizabeth 
would,  save  for  her  act  of  renunciation,  have  become 
entitled  to  the  Crown  of  Hungary  on  her  grandfather's 
death,  whereas  the  Throne  of  Austria,  from  which  wom- 
en were  barred  by  the  Salic  law,  would  have  gone  to 
the  present  Heir  Apparent,  Archduke  Francis  -  Ferdi- 
nand. 

Every  now  and  again  the  question  of  these  mysterious 
"  Family  Statutes  "  of  the  House  of  Habsburg  crops 
up  in  the  national  legislatures  at  Vienna  and  Buda- 
Pesth,  in  spite  of  all  the  endeavors  of  the  presiding 
officers  and  the  ministers  present  to  prevent  any  dis- 
cussion thereof. 

The  last  time  this  occurred  it  was  in  connection  with 
the  solemn  act  of  renunciation  by  the  Heir  Apparent, 
Archduke  Francis-Ferdinand,  of  all  rights  of  succession 
to  the  Throne  of  Austro-Hungary  for  the  children  born 
of  his  morganatic  marriage  with  Countess  Sophie  Chotek. 

On  that  occasion  the  Hungarian  Ministers,  in  claim- 
ing for  the  Archduke  the  right  to  renounce,  in  the  name 
of  any  children  that  he  might  have,  their  succession  to 
the  Crown,  declared  that  his  act  of  renunciation  was  in 
conformity  with  the  "  Family  Statutes  "  of  the  House  of 
Habsburg.  Thereupon  several  members  of  the  Opposi- 
tion protested  that,  in  as  much  as  the  "  Family  Statutes  " 
of  the  House  of  Habsburg  did  not  figure  in  the  national 
code  of  the  Kingdom  of  Hungary,  and  had  never  been 
sanctioned  by  either  of  the  houses  of  the  national  legis- 
lature at  Buda-Pesth,  which  were,  indeed,  wholly  igno- 
rant of  their  character,  they  could  not  be  regarded  as 
bearing  upon  the  situation,  or  as  exempting  Francis- 
Ferdinand  from  that  provision  of  the  Magyar  code  which 
precludes  parents  from  renouncing  in  the  name  of  their 

3" 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

children,  born  or  unborn,  rights,  prerogatives,  or  pos- 
sessions to  which  their  offspring  would  become  entitled. 

No  vote  was  taken  about  the  matter,  the  discussion 
was  allowed  to  drop,  and  it  is  not  probable  that  it  will 
be  revived,  for  the  animosity  in  Hungary  towards  the 
Czechs  is  so  intensely  bitter  that  not  even  the  most  rabid 
of  Magyar  Separatists  would  venture  to  put  forward  as 
a  candidate  for  the  throne  of  St.  Stephen  any  child  of 
Countess  Chotek,  who  is  a  Czech. 

The  secrecy  and  likewise  the  rigor  of  these  "  Family 
Statutes  "  of  the  House  of  Habsburg  have  something  in 
common 'with  those  laws  that  govern  secret  societies  in 
the  United  States  and  in  the  Orient.  It  has  been  by 
virtue  of  their  provisions  that  the  Emperor  has  deprived 
his  kinsmen,  the  Archdukes  John  and  Leopold-Salvator, 
of  their  Imperial  titles  and  prerogatives,  reducing  them 
from  the  status  of  Princes  of  the  Blood  to  that  of  mere 
commoners,  the  one  as  John  Orth,  and  the  other  as 
Leopold  Wolfling.  While  the  causes  which  led  the  Em- 
peror to  take  this  action  with  regard  to  Archduke  Leo- 
pold are  of  recent  and  very  universal  knowledge,  no  one 
even  at  the  Court  of  Austria  knows  definitely  the  exact 
reasons  which  led  to  this  measure  in  the  instance  of 
Archduke  John,  who,  although  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
members  of  the  Imperial  Family,  was  suddenly  expelled, 
not  only  from  that  family,  but  also  from  the  Empire,  as 
well  as  commanded  to  take  a  plebeian  name  and  to  dis- 
appear. 

Princesses,  too,  have  experienced  the  severity  of  these 
"  Family  Statutes  "  of  the  House  of  Habsburg,  the  case 
of  the  ex-Crown  Princess  of  Saxony,  who  has  been  tem- 
porarily deprived  by  the  Emperor  of  the  status,  rank, 
and  prerogatives  of  an  Archduchess,  which  she  inherit- 
ed at  her  birth,  being,  doubtless,  fresh  in  the  memory 
of  all. 

312 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Austrians  are,  without  the  possibility  of  a  doubt,  the 
best  riders  and  finest  sportsmen  in  the  world,  and 
Francis- Joseph  is  one  of  the  most  perfect  horsemen  and 
sportsmen  of  his  Empire. 

I  saw  him  once,  at  the  finish  of  an  extraordinarily- 
swift  run  with  the  hounds,  come  scatheless  through  a 
misadventure  which  would  have  proved  fatal  to  ninety- 
nine  and  a  half  out  of  a  hundred. 

His  left  stirrup-leather  gave  way  and  broke,  and,  at 
the  pace  we  were  going,  few,  indeed,  would  have  escaped 
being  hurled  out  of  the  saddle,  but  he  scarcely  swerved, 
and,  hardly  checking  his  horse  to  recover  his  equilibrium, 
went  on  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  his  knees  pressed  a 
bit  closer  into  his  hunter's  flanks,  thundering  along,  half- 
stirrupless,  with  the  utmost  unconcern. 

Nothing  rebuts  him  in  sport,  and  I  have  often  ad- 
mired his  exemplary  patience  as  I  watched  him  plodding 
conscientiously  after  a  sly  old  dog  fox  (that  led  the  pack 
a  tedious  wind  in  and  out,  through  an  interminable 
spinney,  and  dodged  about  till  twilight  and  rain  fell  upon 
us  in  exasperating  unison),  smiling  as  good-humoredly 
as  if  we  were  having  one  of  the  glorious  hours  of  cross- 
country racing,  over  fence  and  fallow,  in  a  delicious  clip- 
ping rush,  without  a  check  from  find  to  finish. 

He  is  careless  of  hail  or  rain,  mire  or  slush,  mist  or 
cold,  snow,  darkness,  or  frost,  so  long  as  there  is  a  fine, 
scenting  wind,  for  there  is  not  a  man,  I  believe,  who  loves 
hunting  as  he  does,  and  yet  no  rider  was  ever  gentler 
and  kinder  to  his  horses  than  this  ardent  sportsman  who 
is  so  dashing  and  fiery  in  the  field. 

The  Imperial  stables,  now  under  the  supervision  of 
Count  Kinsky,  husband  of  Archduchess  Marie  Valerie's 
girlhood  friend,  Princess  Aglae  Auersperg,  are  superb. 
There  the  horses  are  quartered  en  princes,  their  blank- 
ets, hoods,  and  quarter-pieces  marked  with  the  Imperial 

3!3 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

crown  and  cipher,  and  their  names  blazoned  in  blue 
and  gold  above  their  daintily  nickelled  mangers ;  and  it  is 
a  joy  forever  to  see  the  splendid  animals,  firm  of  muscle 
beneath  their  shining,  satiny  skins,  with  their  beautiful, 
small,  lean  heads,  their  delicate,  nervously  twitching, 
taper  ears,  their  clean,  slender,  dainty  legs,  turning  their 
velvety  eyes  lovingly  towards  the  tall  figure  of  the  Em- 
peror as  soon  as  his  step  sounds  upon  the  marble  aisle 
dividing  the  luxurious  loose-boxes. 

Also,  Francis-Joseph  is  immensely  fond  of  a  good 
tramp  through  wood,  stubble,  and  furrow,  a  gun  thrown 
within  the  crook  of  his  arm,  and  looking  keenly  about 
him  for  partridge,  rabbit,  quail,  or  pheasant,  but  he  dis- 
likes battues,  which,  like  all  true  and  loyal  disciples  of 
Nimrod,  he  considers  mere  butchery,  only  consenting  to 
attend  them  when  a  foreign  Sovereign  visits  him,  and 
such  a  display  is  de  rigueur,  though  he  denounces  it  as 
"the  prose  of  shooting,"  and  that  with  sincere  disgust. 

He  is  a  great  votary  of  both  flat  and  steeple-chase 
racing,  and  makes  a  point  of  being  present  at  the  Freu- 
denau  spring  and  autumn  meetings,  especially  when 
"gentlemen  riders"  or  officers  are  in  the  saddle,  and  he 
is  so  excellent  a  judge  of  such  matters  that  the  mere 
turn  of  the  foot  in  a  stirrup  tells  him  the  exact  amount 
of  science  possessed  by  a  jockey,  whether  professional  or 
otherwise. 

His  eyes  still  shine  with  enthusiasm  when  the  saddling- 
bell  sounds,  when  the  ring  is  in  its  full  rush  of  excite- 
ment, and  the  great  brotherhood  of  the  turf  crowds  to- 
gether to  see  the  start,  and  follows  the  favorites,  with 
cheers  and  groans,  as  the  case  may  be,  over  the  stiff 
fences,  the  terrible  blackthorn  hedges,  the  double  post- 
and-rails,  and  the  artificial  wall  and  bullfinches,  for 
which  the  Freudenau  course  is  celebrated,  and  which 
treat   many   to   a  purler;   and   although   he  would  be 

3i4 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

satisfied,  perchance,  to  see  the  obstacles  tamed  down  a 
little  for  others,  it  is  certain,  too,  that  for  himself  he 
would  absolutely  refuse  to  let  them  be  touched,  had  he, 
as  he  calls  it,  the  luck  of  running  steeple-chases.  Every- 
body rejoices  to  see  him  there,  and  affectionate  glances 
follow  his  tall  form  as  he  moves  to  his  place  in  the  Im- 
perial tribune,  which  centres  the  grand-stand,  at  the 
very  minute  when  the  bell  clangs  and  clashes  passion- 
ately, and  the  names  of  the  horses  are  hoisted  on  the 
telegraph  board. 

Many  of  those  present  think,  too,  of  the  slender, 
lovely  Empress  who  used  almost  always  to  accompany 
him  on  such  occasions,  looking  like  a  white  camellia  in 
her  plain,  sombre,  tailor-made  costume,  smiling,  radi- 
ant, and  full  of  racing  interest,  as  became  the  best 
horsewoman  in  Europe,  while  watching  the  desperate, 
neck  -  breaking  efforts  of  the  steeple  -  chasers  with  her 
deep,  luminous,  enthusiastic  eyes,  as  the  queens  in  olden 
days  watched  the  fierce  tournaments  of  the  lists. 

The  best  shot,  the  best  horseman,  and  the  keenest 
hunter  of  his  Empire,  Francis-Joseph,  although  past  his 
seventieth  year,  still  braves  the  white  fall  of  those  slow, 
softly  descending  Alpine  snow-feathers  which  the  chamois 
use  as  a  veil  of  preservation,  and  exposes  himself,  quite 
undaunted,  to  the  dense  fogs  of  autumn  and  to  the  sud- 
den plunge  into  frost  which  a  mountaineer,  such  as  he, 
is  well  aware  that  he  will  encounter  on  the  spurs  of  the 
high  ranges. 

He  knows  his  way,  inch  by  inch,  along  those  dangerous 
passes,  and  at  night  is  quite  content  to  find  a  bed  of  hay, 
a  fire  of  pine  branches,  a  meal  of  bread  and  cheese,  and 
a  rough  shelter  in  one  of  the  huts  of  refuge,  erected  by 
his  orders  and  by  those  of  the  Empress,  in  places  where 
there  is  barely  a  precarious  foothold  around  the  tiny 
wooden  buildings. 

315 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

His  well-knit  frame  resists  the  influence  of  the  cruel 
air  that  can  slay  as  surely  as  can  a  knife,  and  the  cold 
that  makes  the  body  numb  and  the  veins  swell  painfully, 
almost  as  well  now  as  it  did  twenty-five  years  ago ;  and, 
gripping  his  "Alpenstock"  in  one  hand  and  his  rifle  in 
the  other,  he  climbs,  stoutly  and  fearlessly,  clad  in  the 
Jager's  plain,  serviceable  gray -and -green  "Joppe"  and 
breeches  that  leave  the  knee  bare — rejoicing  to  be  still 
able  to  match  his  strength  and  shrewd  mountaineer's 
wisdom  against  the  perilous  bastions,  walls,  and  peaks 
of  his  de#r  old  friends,  the  Tyrolese,  Upper  Austrian,  and 
Styrian  Alps. 

The  shooting-box  of  Murzsteg,  built  by  himself  in,  one 
of  the  loveliest  spots  in  the  Styrian  Alps,  is,  perchance, 
dearer  to  his  heart  than  any  of  the  gorgeous  Imperial 
residences  which  have  been  his  since  his  eighteenth  year. 
The  forests  that  surround  Murzsteg  are  magnificent. 
The  great  trees  rise  from  a  wilderness  of  fragrant  under- 
growth and  mountain-flowers,  through  which  indescrib- 
ably charming  little  by-paths  seem  to  feel  their  way, 
winding  cautiously  this  way  and  that,  now  emerging 
suddenly  into  the  full  sunlight  of  some  open  glade,  and 
now  plunging  back  again  into  the  rich,  sweet  depth  of 
shadow  and  the  gloom  of  densely  interlacing  boughs, 
where  the  silence  is  alone  disturbed  by  the  full,  fresh 
sound  of  running  waters,  the  scamper  of  a  hare,  or  the 
feathery  whir  of  brightly  tinted  wings.  Close  by  rushes 
the  Murz  River,  eternally  white  with  foam,  and  through 
the  branches  of  the  veteran  timber  the  lofty  peaks  of  the 
"  Hohe-Veitsch,"  the  "  Hocheck,"  and  the  "Kreuzwand" 
shine  like  jewels,  whether  they  are  crowned  with  dazzling 
summer  lightning  or  powdered  with  fast-advancing  au- 
tumn snows. 

The  whole  region  round  about,  both  the  forest -lands 
and  the  broad,  intervening  stretches  of  rosy  heather  and 

316 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

golden  broom,  is  alive  with  birds  and  woodland  creatures, 
and  so  surprisingly  rich  in  game,  including  black-cock, 
mountain-cock,  chamois,  and  deer,  that  it  is  a  veritable 
paradise  for  sportsmen.  Yet  the  arrival  of  large  hunt- 
ing parties  seems  almost  a  profanation  of  this  quaint 
and  delightful  retreat,  with  its  ice-blue  waters  and 
encircling  mountains,  so  full  of  peace  and  solemn 
grandeur. 

The  interior  of  the  house  is  extremely  artistic,  espe- 
cially in  the  sense  that  it  is  that  of  a  hunting-box  and 
nothing  else,  thanks  to  the  Emperor's  taste  and  keen 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things.  The  floors  and  walls  are  of 
light  and  dark  wood,  and  are  ornamented  in  several  in- 
stances with  exquisite  marqueterie  work  in  designs  of 
ferns,  pine  cones,  and  branches,  oak  leaves,  and  other 
forest  treasures.  The  hall,  which  has  a  southern  expos- 
ure, is  decorated  from  floor  to  ceiling  with  hunting 
trophies.  From  a  rosace  in  the  centre  depends  a  huge 
vulture  shot  some  years  ago  by  the  Emperor;  before 
one  of  the  windows  a  wild-cat,  almost  as  big  as  a  puma — 
a  victim  to  Crown-Prince  Rudolf's  rifle  a  short  time  be- 
fore his  death — stands  in  a  menacing  attitude,  clawing 
at  a  rough  tree-trunk,  and  above  the  carved,  wooden 
mantel-piece  a  score  of  beautifully  mounted  chamois' 
heads  are  grouped  about  that  of  an  unusually  splendid 
"stag  of  ten." 

On  the  ground  floor,  beside  the  hall,  the  dining,  smok- 
ing, and  billiard  rooms,  are  eight  bedrooms  for  the  Em- 
peror's suite.  Immediately  above  are  the  apartments 
of  the  Emperor  himself,  those  of  his  guests,  and  also  those 
once  used  by  the  Empress  and  by  "Rudi,"  which  are 
still  kept  exactly  as  they  were  during  the  lifetime  of  the 
occupants.  All  the  furniture,  both  in  the  guest-rooms 
and  the  Imperial  suites,  is  made  of  a  light,  dainty,  Amer- 
ican juniper,  and  everywhere  are  to  be  admired  the  ex- 

317 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

quisite  wood-carvings  of  the  gifted  sculptor,  Franz  Wag- 
ner. 

As  is  always  the  case,  the  Emperor's  rooms  are  the 
simplest  of  all;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  when  the  Ger- 
man Kaiser  last  came  to  visit  him  at  Murzsteg  Francis- 
Joseph,  who  had  made  a  point  of  vacating  them  for  him, 
said  to  his  confidential  valet,  with  a  little  apologetic  smile: 

"You  had  better  go  down-stairs  and  bring  up  a  few 
things  to  make  the  place  a  little  more  Imperial!" 

Above  his  bed  hang  twin,  carved  frames,  the  one  con- 
taining the  following  charming  little  poem,  written  by- 
Archduchess  Marie  Valerie,  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  to 
celebrate  her  mother's  birthday,  which  falls  on  Christ- 
mas Eve.  The  figure  of  an  angel  standing  on  a  cloud  and 
holding  a  newly  born  baby  adorns  the  upper  corner  of 
the  manuscript,  while  below  the  signature  is  a  remark- 
ably good  little  sketch  of  Schloss  Possenhofen,  all  furred 
with  Christmas  snow. 

Weihnacht  wieder!     Hart  gefroren 

Liegt  der  stille  See, 
Und  im  Sonnenscheine  glitzert 

Rings  der  frische  Schnee. 

In  dem  lieblich  trauten  Schlosse 

Das  am  Ufer  stent 
Heut'  ein  Hauch  von  siisser  Freude 

Durch  die  Herzen  went. 

Denn  ein  Engel  stieg  vom  Himmel 

Leise  in  der  Nacht 
Hat  als  schonste  Weihnachts'  gabe 

Tochterlein  gebracht. 

Und  die  Jahre  fliegen  leise 

Aber  rasch  dahin 
Und  die  Eltern  sehn  mit  Freude 

Sie  zur  Jungfrau  bluhn 
3i8 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

Driiben  herrscht  ein  junger  Kaiser 

In  dem  Nachbarland 
Als  er's  Magdlein  kennen  lernte 

Freit'  er  ihre  Hand 

Und  nun  gehen  sie  durch's  Leben 

Liebend  seit  an  seit 
S'Magdlein  bleibet  Ihrem  Manne 

Treu  in  Freud'  und  Leid. 

Und  wenn  auf  des  Kaiser's  Haupte 

Manchmal  driickt  die  Kron' 
1st  fur  seine  Muh'n  und  Sorgen 
Sie  der  schonste  Lohn! 

Valerie. 
Weihnachten,   1882. 

The  other  frame  contains  an  exquisite  water-color 
sketch  of  Empress  Elizabeth  as  she  appeared  at  a  Court 
ceremony  for  the  first  and  only  time  after  Crown-Prince 
Rudolph's  tragic  death.  None  who  saw  her  on  that 
evening  will  ever  forget  the  impression  her  entrance  cre- 
ated, and  I  can  do  no  better  than  to  quote  what  a  friend 
wrote  to  me  about  it  at  the  time: 

'The  Redouten  Saal  was  transformed  into  a  veritable 
bower  of  flowers,  among  which  softly  gleamed  the  mel- 
lowness of  thousands  of  wax  candles,  and  total  silence 
reigned  until  the  doors  were  flung  open  to  admit  the  Im- 
perial party.  Leaning  on  His  Majesty's  arm,  Elizabeth 
looked  like  a  very  incarnation  of  sorrow,  but  sorrow  in 
its  most  beautiful  and  strikingly  poetical  aspect,  so  that 
one  forgot,  while  gazing  at  her,  the  living,  pulsating,  tort- 
ured, broken  heart,  and  saw  only  the  touching  sweetness, 
the  pensive  mournfulness  of  her  lovely  presence.  Clad, 
naturally,  in  deepest  black  and  with  a  long,  sable-hued 
gossamer  veil  falling  from  a  pointed  jet  diadem  to  the 
very  edge  of  her  immense  Manteau  de  Cour,  she  smiled 
faintly  now  and  again  as  she  slowly  advanced  between 

3X9 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

the  double  hedge  of  her  bowing  and  curtseying  guests, 
and  I  assure  you  that  the  expression  of  her  perfect  feat- 
ures, of  her  glorious  eyes,  was  at  once  so  startlingly  poig- 
nant and  so  inexpressibly  beautiful  that  many  of  those 
present  were  almost  in  tears,  and  found  it  difficult  to  con- 
ceal their  emotion.  Evidently  she  herself  was  wonder- 
ing why  her  life  was  henceforth  to  be  like  this  pageant, 
costly,  empty,  and  brilliant,  and  what  she  had  done  to 
deserve  such  a  fate. 

"Her  very  silence,  the  defect  we  all  usually  found  in 
her,  suited  her  extraordinary  charm  that  night,  for  she 
seemed  to  embody  the  stillness,  the  mystery,  the  ethere- 
ality of  la  femme  faite  Ange  de  Douleur,  et  Reine  de  tous  les 
cceurs,  and  as  she  inclined  her  small  head,  crowned  with 
its  wealth  of  tawny  braids,  towards  the  groups  that  bent 
before  her,  the  careless,  the  frivolous,  the  happy,  the  old 
and  the  young  were  alike  smitten  by  a  sudden  pain,  a 
bitter  regret,  a  sort  of  vague  anguish." 

The  artist  to  whom  is  due  this  amazing  aquarelle  of 
Elizabeth  is  a  distinguished  amateur,  who  painted  it 
from  memory  the  day  after  witnessing  the  scene  de- 
scribed above,  with  no  other  aid  than  that  of  some  pho- 
tographs of  an  earlier  date ;  and  yet  it  is  without  question 
the  finest  and  most  sympathetic  portrait  ever  made  of 
her.  The  Emperor  caused  several  copies  of  it  to  be 
made,  but  the  original,  as  I  have  said  already,  hangs 
above  his  plain,  narrow  little  bed  at  Miirzsteg,  and  he 
sits  often  far  into  the  night  gazing  sorrowfully  at  it,  after 
long  hours  passed  in  the  splendid  mountain  and  forest 
haunts  which  they  had  loved  to  visit  together,  in  the 
beautiful  Alpine  autumn  of  the  high  ranges. 

And  now  I  will  leave  off! 

This  book,  beginning  with  an  Emperor's  babyhood 
and  ending  with  his  lonely  old  age,  so  courageously  and 
nobly  endured — with,  as  connecting  links  between  the 

320 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

first  budding  and  the  late  autumnal  tints  of  this  grand 
Imperial  tree,  many  incomplete  incidents  of  his  tragic 
life — is,  alas,  but  a  very  inadequate  sketch,  and  gives 
but  a  very  faint  conception  of  what  this  great  and  good 
man  really  is. 

Francis-Joseph  has,  during  the  fifty-five  long  years  of 
his  reign,  gained  many  titles.  He  has  been  called  "The 
Good,"  "The  Just,"  "The  Chivalrous,"  "The  Coura- 
geous," 'The  Noble,"  and  I  now  permit  myself  to  add 
to  this  list  that  of  "A  Keystone  of  Empire,"  which  is 
the  fittest  appellation  for  the  one  whom,  I  repeat,  is  the 
greatest  and  best  Sovereign  Austria  has  ever  known. 

Napoleon  III.  said  of  him  that  he  was  the  only  mon- 
arch in  Europe  who,  returning  to  his  capital  after  defeat, 
disaster,  and  loss  of  territory,  was  welcomed  by  his  peo- 
ple not  only  with  unimpaired  loyalty,  but  even  with  en- 
hanced devotion,  affection,  and  enthusiasm.  His  subjects 
retain  to  this  day  a  fealty  which  no  "progressive"  ideas 
can  ever  wholly  banish,  a  feeling  of  almost  religious 
homage,  of  surpassing  reverence  towards  their  Sovereign, 
which  has  naught  in  common  with  the  foolish  confusion, 
the  disordered,  feverish  fretting,  and  carping  discontent 
of  this  age.  Cynics  might,  perchance,  attribute  this  to 
mere  climatic  influence,  set  it  down  as  a  result  of  the 
sense  of  physical  well-being  due  to  the  air,  pure  as  crystal 
and  strong  as  wine,  blowing  from  the  grand  Alpine  barrier 
of  ice  and  snow  which  forms  on  one  side  a  rampart  for 
those  lands  that  collectively  we  are  wont  to  call  Austria; 
those  vast  stretches  of  flower-filled  meadows  where  the 
cattle  lie  luxuriously,  of  blossoming  orchards,  of  high 
grass  slopes,  green  as  emerald,  and  fragrant  pine-woods; 
those  broad  plains  of  the  North,  glittering  white  and 
frozen  half  the  year,  and  those  shining,  sunlit  landscapes 
of  the  southern  provinces  that  throughout  the  dreariest 
months  are  rich  and  red  with  roses,  golden  and  purple 

2  1  ^  2  j 


A    KEYSTONE    OF    EMPIRE 

with  fruit,  and  rendered  stately  by  tall  palms,  through 
whose  slender  stems  is  caught  the  soft  sparkle  of  the 
deep-blue  sea. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  serious,  sweet  luminance  with 
which,  as  with  a  halo,  the  love  of  his  subjects  surrounds 
the  Emperor  is  a  beautiful  and  a  gracious  thing  to  be- 
hold. So  let  me  also  repeat  here  in  conclusion,  and  from 
the  deepest  depth  of  my  heart,  the  first  line  of  the  great 
hymn  which  greets  him  wherever  he  appears,  whether 
at  home  or  abroad,  in  moments  of  sadness  or  of  joy,  of 
hope  or  of  despair — 

. 

"Gott  erhalte  Franz  den  Kaiser!" 


THE    END 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

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